


Holding Out for a Hero

by genericfanatic



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Canon Disabled Character, Death Threats CW, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Guns, Gunshots, Stalking CW, Very Loose Interpretation of US Politics, Violence not until later chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22105588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genericfanatic/pseuds/genericfanatic
Summary: After an incident, Agent Fitzroy Maplecourt is being reassigned to outside the White House as detail for Congresswoman Rainer Michelle. He is frustrated as he is delayed on his career goals, but finds that working for the Congresswoman is more challenging and possibly more rewarding than he could have ever anticipated.
Relationships: Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt/Rainer
Comments: 115
Kudos: 92





	1. Where have all the good men gone?

**Author's Note:**

> This is Loosely based on a plot line from The West Wing. There are some things I either am not or cannot do research for so Go With It. Also there is some US Politics mentioned in this, though I try not to be specific on any, uh, administration issues currently happening, so this is a fictional administration with some real issues but it’s not as focused on that. Still, I understand if people would rather avoid that wholesale, so there you go.

“I’m being demoted?” Fitzroy asked, not fully able to keep the whine out of his voice.

“Not demoted,” Agent Jimson said, “reassigned.”

Fitzroy frowned, “to a lower position.” He said, “outside the whitehouse!”

Jimson sighed, “it’s just a temporary assignment,” he said, “a congresswoman has been receiving death threats, so we want to keep a detail on her while we investigate the threat.”

Fitzroy groaned unprofessionally, “babysitting duty? Are you serious? I’m far too senior for that kind of assignment.” Jimson raised a single eyebrow, but didn’t answer. “Come on, is this about the catfish incident?”

“Don’t-“ Jimson said, rubbing his temples, “just, don’t bring up the...THAT again.” Fitzroy flinched, going back to twiddling his thumbs. “Look, you’re a good kid,” Jimson said, “and I think you’re talented, which is why I don’t want to fire you,” he flinched again, “but...you need to learn the difference between being a hero and being an agent. And I need you out of the whitehouse. For a while.”

Fitzroy clenched his jaw, “who is this congresswoman anyway?”

Agent Fitzroy Maplecourt hadn’t been to the Congress building much. Ever since he passed training he made sure to be assigned to the White House as much as he could manage it, usually as a door guard or something. He was determined to work his way up to being part of the President’s detail, and was working steadily toward that goal, until….well, until now. 

“Stop sulking,” Jimson told them as they got out of the car, “I don’t need you making a bad impression.”

Fitzroy cleared his face as much as he could, but as he thought about his dashed dreams, he was having trouble controlling the slight pout. 

He took a sigh. Maybe the dreams weren’t dashed completely. After all, the, uh, incident would pass from people’s memories eventually. Within 4-8 years there would be a new administration, who certainly wouldn’t be bothered with a silly little error an agent had once made. Eventually he could be part of the President’s detail. He just had to prove to Jimson that he could do this one assignment, and maybe he could go back to the White House. 

He was so consumed with his thoughts he didn’t notice Jimson going in the opposite direction. “Over here, Maplecourt,” he called, only looking a little more pout upon. 

Fitzroy looked between where he was going, and where his mentor was headed, “But...the Capitol is this way,” he said.

“Yeah,” Jimson nodded, “And the offices are this way.” He jerked his thumb at a nondescript office building nearby. Fitzroy took a second look at it, noting the security and the fake windows. Ok, he supposed it made sense that people wouldn’t have their offices set up in the Capitol itself, he just...hadn’t thought of it. 

Inside the building might have just been a normal office building, with just a little more security at the door. The main difference was passing people Fitzroy was sure he had seen on TV before, whether they were reporters, congresspeople, senators, or some other personality that got interviewed for things. Fitzroy couldn’t name any of them, but it always felt weird recognizing people in real life he’d never met. It was like they’d stepped out of the television itself.

Jimson led him to an office on one of the higher levels out of the way. Stepping inside was like stepping through a portal. While the rest of the building was impeccably kept, clean carpets and photographs on the walls of great moments in history, the inside looked like a tornado had ripped through, papers littering every flat surface, and taped up to the wall. 

The wall was curious. There were a couple of things one might expect in a congress member’s office, like campaign posters, a map of Maryland and her district in it, a seat map of congress, reminders and post-its. Slightly stranger were a number of photographs and letters, printouts of tweets and emails, a little odd, but probably all from constituents. 

Then, there were memes. Most of them portraying the congresswoman fairly negatively, putting witch features on her, or photoshops of her cackling, drawings of her labeled as a ‘necromancer.’ 

“Freaky, aren’t they?” A person said, coming up on him. He blinked, bringing his attention to the man in a button up shirt that had several buttons undone and sleeves rolled up. Most interesting was the long ponytail with a slight bluish tint and a big handlebar mustache. “I’ve told her to have something more professional looking, but Rainer loves ‘em.”

Jimson smiles, while Fitzroy tries not to look horrified about what his new charge would be like. The man held his hand out for Jimson. “Argonaut Keene, Rainer’s chief of staff and professional blame-taker. You’re Agent Jimson, right?”

“Indeed,” he said, “I believe we spoke on the phone. This is Agent Maplecourt, he’ll be in charge of the congresswoman’s detail.”

Argonaut turned his attention to Fitzroy, who stood just a bit taller, focusing on Jimson’s words about making a good first impression. “Maplecourt, huh?” Argonaut said, shaking his hand, “Sounds like some fancy street in a gated community. ‘Oh, where does the duchess live? Down on the corner of Maple Court and Hoity Toity lane.” 

Fitzroy gaped at him. In elementary school he had some people make fun of his name, but...but he was a fully grown adult! Talking to another fully grown adult! What had he just walked into? “Hey, no need for the face,” Argonaut said, “I was a navy brat, not one to mince my words. Can be tricky working on the hill, but you get used to me.” He winked at Fitzroy, leaving him utterly confused. “That over there’s Bud, he’s our finance guy. We’ll be the people around Rainer the most.” 

He indicated a rather large man sitting at a comically small desk, his long hair falling all around him in matted bunches. He looked up at their stares, gave a single nod to Fitzroy, then returned to his work. “His,” Fitzroy said, keeping his voice down, “His name is...Bud?”

Argonaut shrugged. “Bud’s default, but he responds to just about everything. I’m sure he had a name on his paperwork, but,” he shrugged as if to say ‘what can you do,’ like he wasn’t talking about forgetting someone’s name. “You can call me ‘Argo.’”

Jimson cleared his throat, not as thrown off by the number of odd things in the room, or at least not showing it. “Mr. Keene,” he said, “Is the congresswoman in?”

“Hey Yew!” A voice yelled from the back. “Do we have the numbers from the mining insurance dispute?”

Bud held out a piece of paper as the source of the voice rolled forward, one hand on the controls of her chair, and the other grabbing the paper. Fitzroy looked her over. She was a lot more relaxed-looking than her file picture, but that was to be expected. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and while she wore a suit as expected of her station, she was wearing some jewelry that looked like it was bought at hot topic, with dinosaur bone earrings and a necklace of a freaky looking squirrel face. 

She turned the paper over and considered, frowning, “Hey Argo,” she said, “Can you get a meeting for me with—“ she looked up, spotting the two agents. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Jimson cleared his throat, “Congresswoman Michelle, it is nice to meet you in person. This is Agent Maplecourt, he’ll be—“

“I thought we weren’t doing this,” she said, rolling up to their little group. 

“I don’t think we’re being given much a choice,” Argo said, leaning over to her.

She fixed her frown on Agent Jimson. “Jimson, right? I know I’ve been getting some disturbing emails, but believe me, I’ve been on twitter and have seen worse, so if we can please dispense with this nonsense, you both can go about your day and we can get down to business.”

“Congresswoman,” Jimson, still full of respect and poise, “I understand this may seem an inconvenience to you—“

“I should say so,” She said, “I’m in the public eye 24 hours a day, if suddenly I’m seen with an armed personal bodyguard, it’s going to look like I’m some weak and helpless damsel in distress.”

“I’m sure Agent Maplecourt here will be more than willing to help in whatever way he can to be seen as little a distraction as possible, within the confines of his job.” Jimson said without missing a step. “In the meantime, rest assured that we are working hard to get to the bottom of these threats so that this can all be over with. I’ll leave Agent Maplecourt to go over the details with you. Good meeting you, Congresswoman. Mr. Keene.” He nodded at the both of them, gave Fitzroy a last look he interpreted as ‘don’t screw this up’ and left him to it. 

Fitzroy felt in the den of a lion with the way the Congresswoman and Argonaut were looking at him. Not turning away, the Congresswoman shoved the paper in her hand at Argonaut. “Get me a meeting with the mine owner. And the union leader too, if you can manage it. Agent?” She beckoned him with a hand into the office she’d come out of. 

The office itself didn’t have much in the way of furniture, a desk with a pair of monitors, two chairs pushed as out of the way as they could be, and then everything else was in eye level. The desk had papers on it as well, but they were a bit neater, in piles that implied some form of system. The walls were covered here as well, but inside it was mostly children’s drawings. 

Congresswoman Michelle smiled at them as she passed, going to her desk. “Like them?” She asked, “It’s a school project. A bunch of classrooms in my district have their kids learn about some issues, draw pictures about them, and send them to me. A good way of learning about getting involved in politics.” She pulled up behind her desk, looking him over again. “So, Maplecourt, huh?”

He nodded, “Agent Fitzroy Maplecourt, Ma’am.” He stood at attention, straightening his back to an almost painful degree. 

She snorted. “Oh, we’re going to have to do away with that right away,” she said, “It’s Rainer, Fitzroy. I insist all my employees call me that.”

“Begging your pardon, Ma’am,” he said, “I’m not one of your employees. That’s some of the details I need to go over with you.”

She took a deep breath through her nose, clearly irritated. “Go on.”

He swallowed, “I need to either have you in my sight, or know exactly where you are at all times. If you use the restroom, I need to know all entrances to it, and I’ll be standing just outside. I enter the room before you in all cases, and I decide the safety of wherever we are, or where we go. I need to know where you’re going to make any necessary safety precautions, and if I say go, we go, no questions. I will not be helping you with any campaign or congressional work, not even to hold a paper or a notebook, and I will not divulge any secrets I learn while being around you unless it directly threatens national security.”

“Aw, there go all my secret coup plans,” She said. He stared down at her, trying to keep himself professional, “Just to be clear, that was a joke. You former military?”

He nodded, “Two tours in Afghanistan. Came back for school before I was put into training.”

She hummed, fiddling with the controls of her chair just lightly enough that they didn’t move. “Ok. Some rules of my own. You let us say what we need to for matters of social media about this whole situation, let us handle it. Reporters are going to ask you questions.”

“I’m under legal obligation not to answer any questions from the press, ma’am,” he said.

She flinched, “There’s really no negotiation on the ‘ma’am’ thing, Fitzroy?” 

“Agent Fitzroy Maplecourt,” he corrected automatically, “And I’m afraid not ma’am.” 

She sighed, “Well then, last rule: You don’t touch the chair,” she tapped her wheelchair, “Not even if you think it’s to help me out, understood?”

“Not unless I’m taking you away from a hostile situation,” he said. She frowned. “For anyone else, I would pick them up or pull them if needed.”

She bit her lip, clearly not liking this. “Fine,” she said, “Let’s just both try and stay out of each other’s hair and this can all be over.”

“Alright, I’m off to lunch with Eden,” Congresswoman Michelle said, grabbing her coat, “Argo, my notes. Shadow,” She said to Fitzroy, who had been lurking in the back the whole time, “I assume you’ll be coming.”

“Where are we going?” He asked.

“Phillips Sandwiches on 1st,” she said, putting her coat on. “I’ll get an Uber pool for us.”

“That won’t work, ma’am,” he said.

She sighed, undoing her hair to brush it out. “What, is Lyft better preferred for security?”

“Not that. Though, yes, that’s a problem too.” He said, thinking about that whole hurdle. “But I’ve never been to Phillips.”

“Oh, you’ll love it,” she said, rolling over to him, “Great turkey, they slice it right in front of you.”

“I’ve never been, so I don’t know the security layout of the building,” he said, “I’ll need some blueprints of entrances and exits along with what’s in the surrounding areas.” 

She gave him a flat look. “You can’t be serious.” He gave her a small shrug in answer. “My lunch is in 20 minutes.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said, “But until I have an idea of security of where you’re going, we’re not leaving.”

She stared him down, but he was not easily swayed. She pursed her lips, throwing her coat off. “Argo, call Congressman Eden’s office and tell him to re-schedule the lunch for tomorrow. And will someone get this guy some damn maps?” She rolled back to her office. “Is seeing me through the window of my office sufficient?”

Fitzroy looked into her office. There weren’t any other entrances inside, and windows so he could see her in from outside. “Yes, it’s sufficient.”

“Great,” she responded, and slammed the door on him, leaving the office in silence.

“Yeesh,” Argo said, “I haven’t seen her this angry since….actually come to think of it, I’ve never seen her angry.”

“Yes,” the accountant said in an accent he didn’t recognize, “You have done...very bad.”

Fitzroy sighed, watching her do work on the computer with a certain amount of hostility. This was going to be a long assignment.


	2. Someone, Somewhere watching me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitzroy and Rainer struggle to find a new footing and learn to cohabitate with one another.

“You’re going to be staying in my HOME?” Congresswoman Michelle demanded of him. 

The office had mostly cleared out, people heading home, but the Congresswoman said she liked to stay as late as her people when she could. Still, there were a couple devoted interns and the like who looked up awkwardly at her outburst.

“24 hour protection is...well, 24 hours,” he said, trying to keep his professionalism, “Assassins don’t tend to wait until you’re on the clock.” She massaged her temples, clearly irritated. “If you have a spare room, I can stay there, otherwise a couch will do fine.”

“And what if I don’t have a spare room or a couch?” She said, raising an eyebrow. Fitzroy felt something crumple deep inside of him at the thought of sleeping on the cold wood floor, or maybe an unvacuumed carpet. “Relax, Fitzroy,” she said, wheeling around her desk to lead him out of the office, “I have a spare bed for when my dads visit.”

Fitzroy breathed a sigh of relief, following her. “That will do nicely. Thank you, Congresswoman, I promise I’m a clean guest.” 

She grunted her acknowledgement, and made her way to the elevators. “I usually take the metro home. But I’m sure that’s crawling with assassins too, huh?” She made claws with her hands, like something would jump out at them. 

Fitzroy thought for a moment, “No, the metro won’t do,” he said, “We can take my car.”

“Can you drive and brood at the same time?” She said, “Or am I driving Ms. Daisy in this case?” 

“I can drive,” he said, “I have tinted windows.” And bulletproof windows. OK, it wasn’t technically HIS car, but he was cleared to use it for this assignment. 

She sighed as they made it to the bottom of the elevator and followed him to where he was parked. “You’re lucky I have a spot I rarely use. Street parking on my block is a nightmare.” He hummed, looking in all directions. He had to be on higher alert out here than in the office. “One last thing,” she said, “You don’t have a fur allergy, do you?”

He saw a flash in a distant direction, and stood closer to the congresswoman. He looked again, and it was some kid with a camera phone, taking a selfie. Or at least it seemed to be. He kept an eye on her the whole way to the car. “No,” he said as an afterthought, “Why, do you have a cat or something?”

“Eh, kind of,” she said, and as an agent, that was the most suspicious thing he’d heard.

Fitzroy should have made her clarified. He absolutely should have made her clarify what ‘kind of’ a cat meant, because in all possibilities of the world, he did not expect that to mean she had a TAXIDERMIED CAT in her home. 

And not just a cat, oh no. There was a posed squirrel, a frog, even several birds, all stuffed, all sitting on the shelves in her apartment. 

“Fitzroy?” Rainer called from her hall, “Are we all clear, or did you find John Wilkes Booth in my bathtub?”

Fitzroy shook his head, continuing his sweep of the room. “It’s Agent Fitzroy Maplecourt,” he corrected, “And we’re all clear.” 

Rainer came in, smiling just a bit too smugly at Fitzroy’s face, which must have shown his mix of disgust and horror. “Like the decor?” She asked. 

Fitzroy swallowed, the glassy eyes of a bird staring back at him. “It’s...certainly unique,” he said, “I’m guessing this is why they call you the necromancer?”

“Nah, it’s just a hobby,” she said, “My dad was a biology teacher, had to do a lot of dissections and stuff, you know? I wanted to give them another life after that, something to be remembered for. Give them back a little dignity, you know?” He gave a small noise, looking at a little squirrel posed like it was dancing. Sure, dignity, he thought. 

She set her wheelchair aside and got up to go to the fridge. “They call me the necromancer because I bring old dead bills ‘back to life.’ Was meant to vilify me, but I embraced it.” She opened the freezer door, looking at the ingredients inside. “Do I need to feed you?” She asked.

“I’m not a turtle,” he said, grabbing his suitcases that he’d left at the door, “But...if you keep the receipts, the department can pay you back so—“

“Yeah yeah,” she said, “Well grocery is out since I don’t have a map of it. And I assume getting something delivered is….” she looked up at him hopefully.

He shook his head, his suitcase stuttering on the carpet, “Definitely out.”

“Alright, then our choices are….Lean Cuisine, or Weight Watchers. Take your pick.” She showed a pair of boxes to him. He flinched at the options before him, feeling his sense of professionalism crumbling. “What? I’m a busy congresswoman, I don’t exactly have time to cook.”

He sighed and picked the lean cuisine turkey dinner, preparing his tastebuds for the inevitable clash of burning hot and freezing cold. He took the top box off of his luggage, checking to make sure it was intact. It was different than the other bags, which came in a set (rolling duffle, airplane suitcase, and carry-on) and had a cloth over it. “For some reason, I would have expected a secret service agent to pack light,” the Congresswoman said, putting the dinner in the microwave, “What’s in that box.”

He looked up at her, then took off the cloth, revealing a clear plastic terrarium. “This is Snippers,” he said, indicating the little hermit crab, huddled in his shell as he was terrified of his new surroundings, “He’s my pet, small so easy to travel with, and doesn’t take too much care.”

She smiled, coming over to see it. She put her finger on the glass, the small crab crawling towards it to investigate, “Aw, how cute!” She said, then looked up at him, “So, the super secret agent has a soft side after all.”

He pouted, “I can be very nice!” He said, admittedly on the defense. She smirked, but said nothing. “Snippers was a gift to me. He’s supposed to help me out with my…” he swallowed, realizing he’d said to much.

“You’re…” she lead him, and he knew she wasn’t going to let it go.

He frowned, holding the crab terrarium close. “...he...helps with my anger management.”

She stares up in surprise as he flinches away, staring at Snippers in shame. The microwave dings behind her. “Just what you want to hear from the guy whose job it is to follow you around with a gun.” She said, going to get the food. 

Fitzroy put the terrarium down. “I promise you, it is well behind me,” he said, “I used to have some issues, but I’ve been cleared by doctors and I can control myself just fine and I—“

“Relax, Fitzroy,” she said, “I wouldn’t joke if I was actually concerned. Well. Ok, that’s a lie, I joke all the time. That’s something I used to have ‘some issues’ with.” She took a big breath, laying out their food on plates, “I think you and I have gotten off on a bad start. And given that we’re going to be spending a LOT of time together, I think we should start fresh. Do you like reality TV, Fitzroy?”

She offered him a plate, and he took it graciously. “Agent Fitzroy Maplecourt. Or just Agent Maplecourt, if you prefer,” he said corrected, but noted the slight disappointment on her face, “And...I love Project Runway.”

She smiled, “Well, we’re going to be watching Cutthroat Kitchen, but good to know.”

“You sure you don’t want turkey? It’s good,” Rainer said.

Fitzroy couldn’t fully keep back his disgust. “After what those so called ‘chefs’ did? I don’t think so.”

Seeming to think he was joking, Rainer laughed. “How about Roast Beef then?”

“You don’t have to get me anything,” he said, “I won’t be eating here.”

Rainer sighed, “One turkey breast sandwich and one Roast Beef,” she told the sandwich maker. Fitzroy gave her a side look. “For later,” she told him. 

Fitzroy grumbled, but didn’t protest. Phillips Sandwiches was far too open for his liking. Movies always showed Congress people meeting in fancy restaurants or seedy back rooms of bars. This was just a normal cafe, with a big glass window, some stairs (they had to take the wheelchair lift, which was a nightmare enough for Fitzroy) and a lot of people for the lunch rush. 

They got a lot of looks, which was to be expected, he supposed. He did some more research on Rainer last night, and found a lot of social media revolving around her. She was something of a celebrity in politics and had a lot of public attention. And here in Washington, it only made sense a lot of people would recognize her. The wheelchair certainly had her stick out a little more, but a little more was all it took. 

Rainer picked out toppings for Fitzroy’s sandwich, though he didn’t pay much attention. The whole place was putting him on edge, as he cycled from one person to the next, trying to figure out if they’d be a threat. 

“Ninja’s aren’t going to drop from the ceiling,” Rainer said as she paid. “Relax. Everyone’s here for lunch.” 

“So they seem,” Fitzroy said, making Rainer roll her eyes. 

“Come on,” she said, leading him through the tables. “Buckminster’s already got a table for us.”

She lead him to a wheelchair accessible table with a pair of men pouring over papers laid out for them. “Hey Bucky!” Rainer said, upping the perky factor and putting her sandwich on top of the paper he was looking at. “How ya doin.”

The man, who Fitzroy assumed was Congressman Buckminster Eden, looked up. “What have I said about nicknames, Rainer?” He asked dryly, not seriously annoyed. His eyes drifted to Fitzroy, who sat down. “Who’s this?”

“Ah, meet my shadow,” She said, nodding her head at him. “Don’t worry, I’ve got him under a blood pact not to tell our secrets.” She winked. 

“It’s not a blood pact,” Fitzroy said, “It’s a very serious law which I could be prosecuted for as a felony.” 

“He’s really fun at parties, as you can see,” Rainer said, with a light smile on her face.

Buckminster looked between them. “Secret Service?” He said, having the sense to keep his voice down. “What have you been getting into, Rainer?”

“Oh, the usual conspiracies,” she said, “Hi Leon,” she said, nodding at the other man at the table. Leon nodded back, looking more than a little intimidated at Fitzroy’s presence. “Let’s get to business, shall we?”

Buckminster either let his concern dropped, or he was clever enough to make it seem that way. “Well, we’ve got three versions of this labor union bill drafted. The first is our ideal, the second is how much we’re willing to sacrifice before we scrap, and the last is the scary version we’re going to submit to get the Republicans to lean toward the ideal.”

“And maybe give Fontaine a good nightmare or two,” Rainer said, picking up the third version and giving it a quick scan. “Oh, I think we can do better than this.”

Rainer’s hands went into a flurry of highlighting and scratching and writing in new words. Fitzroy understood a word or two in there, like “subpeona,” “Culpability” and “Insurance” but beyond that she may as well have been speaking a different language. Fitzroy knew that as a congresswoman, she would hopefully be smart, or at least smarter than him, but even Buckminster and Leon seemed a step or two behind. 

Fitzroy wasn’t...dumb. He was maybe a little politically unaware, and its possible some of his teachers in high school...and college...and in training, would disagree, but he still thought of himself as smart. Still, he was struck as she spoke, figuring out pieces of litigation and putting them together like a jigsaw puzzle, she was brilliant. 

He mentally shook himself. He didn’t have time for admiration. He was still looking around the cafe to try and assess any threats. It was his job, not listening to bills being made he couldn’t understand. No time to be amazed at how someone could talk so poetically about the necessity of labor unions. 

There was someone who entered the restaurant who lit up his brain. She didn’t look particularly threatening, a young woman, seemingly on her lunch break...except she didn’t go to the register, she just went and sat down at a table kitty-corner to their own, and then opened her phone. Maybe she was just waiting for someone. That was probably the answer. Still, Fitzroy kept his eye on her. 

“Alright,” Buckminster said, “I’m gonna take this back to my staff, and we’ll see if we can get a timeline for the best introduction to the committee. 

“Excellent,” Rainer said, shaking his hand, “Talk with Argo, if anything goes wrong, it’s his fault.”

Buckminster chuckled as he and Leon stood up to throw away their trash. They each gave a nod to Fitzroy, who nodded back, and Rainer opened up her sandwich, “Ugh, every time, I get so caught up in talking I forget to actually eat.” She took a big bite, “So, any insights from seeing the democratic process in action?”

Fitzroy glanced over to her, still keeping his eye on the girl across from them. No one had come to join her. “It’s very...complicated,” he said, glancing at the papers, “So, uh...why are you going to introduce a bill that you don’t actually want?”

Rainer sighed, “In an ideal world, I probably would want this,” she said, holding up the bill draft, “But my job isn’t so much about getting what I want. It’s about scaring the pants off people on the right.” Fitzroy raised an eyebrow. “It’s a political strategy,” she said, “Democrats want certain provisions for union labor or civil rights or whatever. Republicans don’t, and so will compromise they’re way out of it completely. Enter me,” She did a wave over herself. “Their worst nightmare. A bisexual disabled woman with two dads and a vague ethnic background. I put forward a radical version of the Democrat’s plan, and force people like my nemesis Congressman Rolandus Fontaine to compromise towards more reasonable democrats like Buckminster.” She shrugged, “I’m good at playing the villain.”

“Huh,” Fitzroy said, thinking, “I can’t really imagine...INTENTIONALLY ruining your public image like that…”

“That’s politics, baby,” Rainer said with a wink. “You gotta lose some to win some. Or at least to not lose more.” 

“That’s ridiculously complicated and—“ Fitzroy jerked his head at the slightest sound of a camera. He turned back to the girl, who had her phone pointed at the pair of them. She caught his eye and quickly got up to leave. 

Fitzroy stood, about to go after her, when Rainer grabbed his arm. “It’s alright,” she said, “I know that one.”

Argo swiveled his computer around back at the office. There were two photos on a trashy paparazzi blog, one from the day before as Rainer and Fitzroy were leaving the office building, and one from that day at lunch. “The jig is up, it seems.”

Rainer covered her face, whining, “Ugh, we need to leak some story to the press, I don’t want them speculating about this. Or worse, finding the truth.”

“Already on it,” Argo said, a devious smile on his face, “I talked about it with Agent Jimson and we came up with a solution. Congresswoman,” he gestured his arm out to Fitzroy, “Meet your new boyfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Fake Dating AU! Was kinda a surprise to me too, but like. It fit. And I’m not just going to say no to that, am I?


	3. Gotta be fresh from the Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitzroy and Rainer adjust to their new situation, and learn more about one another.

As Rainer and Fitzroy followed Argo into the conference room, Fitzroy couldn’t help noting the healthy amount of space between the two, like bubbles had just gone up around them both. She also wasn’t meeting his eyes, not that he was trying to catch them. “So,” Rainer said, “Explain your thinking, please.”

The phone lit up and Jimson’s voice came through. “It’s not uncommon for agents to go undercover. This is a pretty easy story to back up.”

“Why do I have to be undercover, though?” Fitzroy asked, trying not to sound whiny. He wasn’t sure how well he accomplished it. 

“Look,” Argo said, “Everyone at this office has put a lot of time into creating a persona for the congresswoman. The lady of the common folk, the radical left, the one who takes the subway to talk to people. A bodyguard hanging around suddenly introduces the idea that she’s taken to be one of the elite, an insider who cares more about herself than her constituents.”

“Plus,” they jumped as they noticed the accountant was in the room with them. Fitzroy was really off his game, “People will ask...why.”

Argo nodded, “That’s true. We introduce a bodyguard, the media will ask why you need them. Then you have the choice of explaining the death threats, or they’ll go digging themselves.”

“They’ll go digging if I say I have a boyfriend too,” Rainer said. 

“That I can cover,” Jimson’s voice said, “Agent Maplecourt already has records from his time in Afghanistan. I’ve talked with his former CO General Clyde Nite. If any reporters come digging around, he can report that Maplecourt is still under his division, but is on leave.”

Fitzroy tried to hide his flinch. He did not like that Clyde Nite was being brought into this, but it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. “The media will figure you wanted your privacy with a boyfriend,” Argo added, “They’ll want more info, but a few socialmedia posts, maybe a fake date, and they’ll be satisfied. The idea of death threats will send them into a frenzy and become the top news story. It’ll distract from the labor union bill, and anything else you want to do until it’s over.”

“Not to mention send the perpetrator into hiding if they know we’re onto them,” Jimson spoke up again, “It’s better not to have questions.”

It took Fitzroy a minute to notice Rainer was looking at him again. He swallowed, meeting her eyes. “What do you think?” 

Fitzroy took a sharp breath. He still wasn’t really sure what this all was going to entail, but…. “They make good points,” he admitted.

Rainer frowned just slightly, and Fitzroy felt like he was being scanned. For what, he couldn’t guess. “Alright.” She said, and the room was a flurry of motion. Argo hung up the phone and was chatting away at Rainer about how they were going to leak this to the press, coming up with stories, and then going into business. 

Fitzroy watched Rainer go, back into business mode herself, and wondered what was going to happen. 

The next few days weren’t too bad. Just like….mild amounts of torture. 

When Rainer went to speak to the press, suddenly there were microphones pointed at him, people asking him questions. Argo stepped in to save him, but soon the reporters got tired of getting nothing, and just asked their invasive questions to Rainer instead. She skipped over them like jump ropes. It was actually quite the art form to behold. 

He had to dress down when they were out. He was supposed to be on leave, spending precious minutes with his girlfriend, not on guard in suits. He went with cable knit sweaters to fight against the fading Washington Winter, though for some reason it made Rainer give him weird looks. No sense worrying about it. 

And….they had to hold hands. Like a lot of the time when they were outside, they would just be holding hands. Sometimes Rainer even sent a fond smile his way, which he tried to reciprocate. It made him feel….weird. Like his insides had turned to spaghetti. He did his best with the acting, but he always felt like he was overdoing or under or...he was always doing something wrong. 

It had been a while since he’d had a partner. In fact he’d been under Clyde Nite’s command at the time. It was hard to remember what he was supposed to do, and all Rainer’s advice was ‘stand there and look pretty.’

But, other than that, nothing much changed. He hung out at her office while she was working. She’d limited her number of out-of-office lunch meetings as much as she could, and then they just went back home and watched TV. 

As they were watching more of the damned cutthroat kitchen, (she had all the episodes saved, there was no escape) he heard a click beside him. 

He turned, Rainer on the opposite end of the couch with her phone pointed at him. “Can you look just a little less miserable?” She said to him, “All these pictures make it seem like I’m peeling back your fingernails or something.” 

Fitzroy grimaced at her, “I mean, you do have the whole ‘witch’ persona thing, right?”

Rainer snorted, taking another picture. She sighed, “ah well, I can make this work.” She typed quickly and showed him the photo. It was him grimacing with words over it ‘I just told a bad joke. #datenight.’

Fitzroy sighed over dramatic-ly, “This is the problem when you get your sense of humor from a cooking torture show.”

“It’s not torture!” She said, “It’s FUN.”

“Congresswoman, I was TRAINED about torture,” he said, “this is torture.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him and blew spit. “It’s fun,” she said, “Just ‘cause you’ve never HAD fun doesn’t mean you can take it away from everyone else, AGENT,” she emphasized the word harshly. She still didn’t like him calling her ‘Congresswoman.’ 

Fitzroy stuck his own tongue out in response. “I can have fun,” he said. She rolled her eyes, disbelieving him. They both went back to watching the show, when for some reason Fitzroy decided to add, “This show explains your cooking ability too.”

Rainer groaned, “If this is about the breakfast—“

“Frozen omelets!!!” Fitzroy exclaimed, for not the first and definitely not the last time, “Who makes microwaveable omelets??? They’re just eggs! With stuff in them!!”

“Yeah, stuff that goes BAD,” Rainer said, “and I don’t always have time to make them, and so it just goes to rot.”

“Well what about a nice crepe then?” He said, “Crepes are really easy! You just put the stuff in the pan and like, swirl it around.”

She laughed in the face of his misery. “Well, maybe if you would let us go outside more, we could go out and GET crepes.”

“I told you, we can go anywhere you want. But I need time to analyze the security threats.”

She sighed, laying down on the couch with her legs over the armrest. “I feel confined, Fitz. Cooped up. Imprisoned.” He hummed, unsympathetic. “Don’t you feel trapped, just staying in here all the time?” 

“I mean,” he said, “My job is to step in front of bullets. So, like. I’m pretty chill staying in here.”

Rainer let her legs fall, glaring up at him. “You’re a real Debby downer, anyone ever told you that?” 

“You have, over the past few days,” he said, “Also Argo says it a lot.” He scrunched his face up, which made her laugh. 

She took a couple attempts at sitting up. “Well,” she said, “I would like to go to the gym at some point. It’s important to get some controlled exercise in, considering I’m stuck inside all day. I’ll have Argo whip you up some blueprints or whatever, maybe we can go next week.”

Fitzroy hummed. “You could just come to our gym.” She gave him a confused look. “Secret Service, we have our own gym. Totally secure, you could walk around. They have facilities for injured veterans and stuff too, so they’ll have stuff for you to use. I can talk to Crush, the trainer there, he might have some insights.”

She was silent for a moment, prompting Fitzroy to turn and look. 

The joy in her eyes was almost overwhelming. “You mean it? We can go?”

“Sure,” he said, mouth curving into just the slightest smile, “Tomorrow after you’re done with work, if you want.”

She reached over and hugged him around the neck. “Thank you!” 

She let him go and turned off the TV, “I gotta go to bed. I’ll make sure to microwave you a breakfast sandwich in the morning. Maybe we can even break out the frozen waffles.”

Fitzroy didn’t respond, still in a little bit of shock, a blush creeping onto his face. 

Crush took to Rainer instantly, which Fitzroy knew he would. Crush took well to everyone. Still, Rainer liked his sense of humor more than Fitzroy really did. 

Considering they were in a closed in facility literally surrounded by agents, Fitzroy felt safe in allowing them to go off while he did his own workout. He’d been feeling lacking while on assignment. It was good to get his muscles in use. 

He had the uneasy feeling that Crush and Rainer were talking about him. Saying what, he couldn’t be sure, but any time he looked over to check on them, she was staring at him. He also heard the pair of them laughing a lot, which was to be expected, but it put him on edge. 

When he was done with his typical workout, Rainer was still going through stretching. It seemed Crush was guiding her through some forms that would be easy for her to do in the chair, which he hoped would be helpful. Still, since he had some time to kill, he thought it would be a good idea to brush up on his shooting skills, so he went to the gun range. 

He was practicing for maybe 10 minutes when he felt he was being watched. Rainer was off to the side, saying something which he couldn’t tell with his ear protection gear on. He put his gun down and took them off. “What?” He asked. 

“I said, can I try?” Rainer asked, nodding at the gun. 

Fitzroy cocked an eyebrow. “YOU want to learn how to shoot?” 

Rainer shrugged, “I’ve been fighting for gun control this whole time. Probably a good idea to get some sense of what it’s all about.”

Fitzroy opened his mouth, but not coming up with an argument, closed it again. He grabbed some more ear protection on the wall. “Rule number 1, don’t point the gun at anybody.”

“Got it,” she said, rolling over. He handed her the protectors. “Sounds easy enough.” 

Fitzroy nodded,“This isn’t so much a rule, but the range isn’t really made for sitting.”

Rainer scoffed, standing, “Ableist,” she said, though some humor took away the bite. Fitzroy noted she wobbled a bit, probably as she just finished her workout, but she steadied herself before he had to intervene. 

He tucked her hair behind her ear, noting the soft and silky texture, before putting the ear protectors on her. He put them back on himself and helped her hold the gun properly. “Line up where you want to shoot with the top of the gun,” he said loudly, then took a step back, holding his arms out. 

She turned her head, staring at him confused. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” She yelled.

“Just shoot,” he said, keeping his arms out.

Rainer cracked her neck, lining up her shot against the silhouette on the far end of the wall. Taking a breath, she squeezed. 

“WHOA!” She shouted, falling back instantly, gun hanging limply by her side. Fitzroy smirked, catching her in a dip and holding all her weight easily. 

She stared up at him, eyes blown wide. “And that’s what I was doing,” Fitzroy said, still grinning. 

He helped her back to standing and she took her headgear off. “That is a HELL of a kick,” she said, “And that’s what you’re using to defend me? How are you going to do that when you just end up falling on your ass?”

“I don’t fall on my ass,” he said easily, taking the gun from her and putting it safely on the table. He provided support as she sat back in her chair. 

“Bet you did, though,” She said, glaring, “Seriously, how good are you with that thing? I feel like as your protectee I need to know.”

He gave a humble shrug, “Pretty good.”

Rainer narrowed her eyes, sensing a challenge. “Ok,” she said, looking at the silhouette in the back. “If you can get 3 out of 5 shots in the center target, we’ll watch project runway tonight.”

Fitzroy perked up, “Promise?”

“What you need me to pinky swear?” 

He put his protective ear gear back on and gestured for her to do the same. Just to show off, he used the controls to send the target all the way to the back. Then he stood, lining up his shot. “If you don’t think you can do it, I’ll give you 3 out of 6.

“No, no,” he said, staring down the target, “Just trying to decide what I’ll do with the other two shots.”

“Whatd’you—“

BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM

“HOLY SHIT!” Rainer yelled, looking down at the target. “A little warning next time?” She took her headgear off. 

Fitzroy did the same, bringing the target forward, “my apologies, of course.”

Rainer looked at the used target. There were 3 holes, one direct center, two on either side. “But I—you shot 5 times, how did—“ Her head turned to him, “You shot 3 through the same hole?”

Fitzroy gave a shrug. “I believe Project Runway: All Stars is on tonight. I want to see Jonathan’s creations. His broach game is wack.”

Rainer swallowed, “mmhmm,” she said. 

She was quiet on their way home. Fitzroy hoped Crush hadn’t pushed his workout on her too hard. Her face still seemed flushed.


	4. Late at Night, I toss and I turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitzroy is finally getting along with Rainer and her staff, which of course must lead him to ruin absolutely everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s in the tags, but as an update: TW for stalking behavior from an unnamed character.

“I’m thinking….” Fitzroy said, biting his tongue, “Doctor Mushrooms.”

The accountant smiled, “This. I like this.”

“It’s not really a nickname,” Rainer said, looking between the two. “Do we have to say the whole thing?”

“Is respect,” Doctor Mushrooms said. Rainer rolled her eyes just a little and took a bite of her sandwich. 

They were eating lunch in the conference room. Rainer and...and ‘Doctor Mushrooms’ were supposed to be meeting about their budget for going against the mining company’s lobbying initiatives in Congress, but they had gotten distracted. “Ugh, we still need to get this done,” Rainer said, looking back over her notes and papers. “When the Unions don’t get the money they want, I’m going to blame you,” she said to Fitzroy.

He grasped his chest in hurt shock, “ME?” He said, “I’m but a humble observer. A simple watcher. A fly on the wall.”

“Loud fly,” Doctor Mushrooms said with a smile. Fitzroy fake swooned, which made Rainer laugh. 

To his credit, he did allow them to work, while he worked himself. There was a window where he could see and make note of everyone who came into or left the greater office. He still didn’t really understand all the nuances of the bill they were talking about except “Unions good, mining lobby bad,” which seemed fair all things considered.

He was, however, getting along pretty well with Rainer’s staff. Argo delighted in making fun of him, but that just seemed to be how he reacted with everyone, and he still kept the whole office tied together. Doctor Mushrooms, obviously, had taken well to Fitzroy’s ‘Guess my real name’ shtick. And then there was Mimi the Intern, who kept trying to get him to break out laughing, even though he reminded them he wasn’t like a Buckingham Palace guard. Even Germaine, Victoria, and Rattles (that can’t be his name, right?) seemed to take to him. Well, he never really knew what Rattles was thinking.

And Rainer...Rainer was special.

He didn’t know how to describe it. He wasn’t supposed to really form opinions about his protectees. It was his job to protect her, and he had to do that whether he liked her or not. 

Still, he felt that protective instinct even when the only threat was a reporter asking invasive questions, or an internet troll that called her evil. She relished in these sorts of responses, saying it’s how she knew her brand was working. But it didn’t sit right with Fitzroy that someone so nice was treated….like this.

Fitzroy was thankfully not lost in thought enough that he couldn’t react when the door to the greater office burst open. He leapt to his feet, hand already on his weapon, when he saw it was just Argo rushing forward. 

He came into the conference room out of breath with a paper in hand. “The bill made it through committee,” he managed to say. 

Rainer whirled her chair around to face him. “Which bill?”

“Congressman Eden’s,” Argo said, “Your’s is still swimming around, but it’ll only get pushed through is Eden’s fails.”

The office swirled into action, Rainer leaving the budget and her sandwich behind. “I want a headcount by the end of the day, everyone call everyone else you know. We want to make it clear we’ll give Eden our reluctant support, but I want to make my bill as scary as possible to make sure this one goes through. I’ll need a meeting with Eden’s office to discuss more strategy, I think we can use the President’s gala to our advantage. Argo, I’ll need an interview with the press, make sure to get studio maps to Fitzroy.”

Fitzroy perked up at his name. She usually had reluctantly called him ‘Maplecourt’ unless they were undercover as a couple. Although, he supposed somewhere along the line he’d started referring to her as ‘Rainer’ in his head. When had that happened?

“I’ve already set up a phone interview, I don’t want any newsroom getting wind of Agent fancy lad here,” Argo said, which Fitzroy made a face at. “You’re on with Festo at 7.”

“Festo?” Rainer screwed up her face, “Aren’t they a bit gossip-column-y for us?”

“No one better to do some fearmongering,” Argo said, “Also it’s the first one I could get.”

Rainer sighed, “Guess we’re going home early tonight,” she said to Fitzroy. 

By 7:00 they were back in Rainer’s apartment, and she was dressed in her pajamas on the couch, while Fitzroy did work on his computer beside her. “Thank you for talking to me, Festo, it’s great to be on your program,” Rainer said into her phone. 

Fitzroy pulled up Festo’s news program on his computer, putting in his headphones so he could hear the other side. “It is so good to be talking to you!” Festo said, and Fitzroy wondered how someone with a voice that high got into reporting. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well, thank you,” Rainer’s voice echoed through Fitzroy’s headphones, “I’m excited that we will be getting some sort of support for our most vulnerable labor unions.”

“Where are you calling from, Congresswoman?” Festo asked, “Your office or…”

Rainer frowned, confused, “Uh, no,” she said, “I’m home for the evening, but my office is working hard 24 hours so that we can get the labor unions the protections they need from companies that are trying to keep their employees dependent on them and—“

“All curled up with the new beau, huh?”

Fitzroy quickly met Rainer’s eyes who looked shocked. “I—“ Rainer said, completely off guard, “I don’t see how that’s relevant. Now, Congressman Eden’s bill isn’t perfect, but luckily if people don’t like this one, I have another that’s still in committee in case—“

“Is it hard, finding time to date while also working as a Congresswoman?” Festo cut her off. Rainer blinked in disbelief, not coming up with any response. “How did you two meet?” 

Rainer looked like she had been hit by a truck. For all that Fitzroy had seen of her dancing around reporters and through complex legalese, she was lost in this simple question. “My...personal life has no baring on this issue,” she said, and Fitzroy saw her blushing, “About the bill—“

“Aw, but everyone’s talking about it, and you’ve given so few details!” Festo squeaked, “No one knows anything about this Fitzroy Maplecourt,”

“Agent Fitzroy Maplecourt,” Fitzroy mumbled under his breath.

“And as a Congresswoman who has so much social media presence, we are all curious as to how he has appeared out of nowhere with no mention by you.”

Rainer opened her mouth several times, and then hung up the phone, tossing it across the couch. 

Fitzroy quickly put his own laptop aside, looking at her, “Hey, that was...that was really out of line of them.” 

“So stupid,” She said, pulling her knees up into a hug, “We ought to have put more time into the cover, we...we ought to have thought this all through more. Had a better story, given you a social media presence, maybe ease into this—“

“There was no way we could have known any of that,” Fitzroy said, trying to be comforting, “these things go so fast...and we didn’t know this would be going on this long. It’s not your fault.”

“It’s just so frustrating!” She said, “Having my life turned all the way around for...for nothing! And I can’t do anything about it and,” She stuffed a pillow into her face to muffle a scream/whine. 

Fitzroy stood up, giving her space, “I,” he said, “I’m sorry that my presence...inconveniences you so much.”

Rainer removed the pillow and looked up at him, “Oh, no, Fitzroy, it’s not your fault,” She said, “I mean, come on, this assignment is below you too, just standing around behind me all day,” He clenched his teeth just slightly at the thought, “I mean, how did someone with your skills end up a congresswoman’s babysitter anyway?”

He was ready to fight the word babysitter, but he remembered himself describing the assignment as such when they first met. “There was...an incident.” Rainer raised her eyebrow, patting the seat beside her. Reluctantly, he sat there. “I...had been reading some reports of people who were attempting to poison foreign dignitaries with mercury poisoning in fish,” he said, regretting having to retell this story. 

Rainer frowned, “Why were you reading about mercury poisoning of foreign dignitaries?”

Fitzroy shrugged, “For fun,” he said. She blinked. “You have a stuffed squirrel on your coffee table, you don’t get to judge.” She held up her hands in surrender. “Anyway, one of the suspects...apparently shared a name with one of the kitchen staff at the White House residence. I was going to investigate it when uh. I heard they were serving the President and his wife catfish for dinner.”

“Oh no,” Rainer said, “You tried to save the President from a catfish?”

Fitzroy cleared his throat. “Burst in the room and tossed the dish away. And...all over the First Lady’s dress.”

Rainer gave a sharp laugh, quickly covering her mouth, but couldn’t fully hold in her giggles. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, waving at him, “Oh goodness, Fitz,” She kept laughing at his misery, while he waited patiently. She hadn’t been the first to laugh at the incident, though NO ONE was laughing on the day in question. “Oh, God,” she sighed, trying to calm herself, “Oh, it makes so much SENSE now, though. You being assigned to me has nothing to actually do with me, does it?”

“Well,” Fitzroy said, “I don’t know about that.”

“I get it now!” She said, “They wanted you reassigned, so they exaggerated the case against me so they’d have somewhere to send you.”

“I mean,” he swallowed, “That’s part of it, but...you understand there are people who want to kill you.”

“Yeah yeah,” she waved him off, “They’re names are the republican members of congress tell me something I don’t know.”

“I—“ Fitzroy swallowed, “I don’t think you get the gravity of the situation. I’m here to PROTECT you, it isn’t—“

“It’s okay, Fitz,” Rainer said, reaching a hand to him, “You can take this assignment as a break I don’t mind.”

“It’s Agent Fitzroy Maplecourt!” He said, standing abruptly. He shook off her hand, and with it went her amused smile. “This is serious business. Someone out there wants to hurt you, and they’ll go to great lengths to make that happen. I’m here because if I wasn’t someone may have tried already!”

Rainer blinked at him, but gave a breathier laugh. “I...come on, Fit—-Agent Maplecourt,” she said, correcting herself. “But I saw those first emails before your agency swooped in and took over everything. It’s just people trying to scare me and—“

Fitzroy stormed into his room. If she wasn’t going to take him and his job seriously, he’d show her how serious it was. 

He marched back in, tossing printouts onto her coffee table. “This is their idea of scaring,” he said. 

Swallowing nervous, she looked at the printouts, orienting them to see easier. They were emails. The text were general threats, talking about how she needed to resign or else and many more horrible things about her race, gender, family, ability, and sexuality. That part was your basic twitter nonsense. 

The scary part were photos, grainy as they were. Photos of Rainer. “That...that’s my grocery store,” she said, looking at the top one. She pushed that one aside, looking at the next, “My gym,” she said, quickly going to the next and gasped, “That—my parents house, how did they know—?”

“They know,” Fitzroy said, “Because they’re scary people. They’re not like internet trolls you can just ignore. They have an obsession, an unhealthy obsession, and they won’t stop until they kill you.”

Rainer looked up at him. Her face was pale, and he saw tears in her eyes, and he felt cold rush through him. He had just wanted to show her, to make her understand the situation, but instead he had scared her down to her core. Of course he had, how could he not have. 

He opened his mouth to say something comforting, something to reassure her, but how could he when he was the one who had just destroyed her faith in the world, the thin veneer of safety everyone kept around them that no one would really care enough to try and hurt them. 

Rainer jumped off the couch, rushing to her room, only to trip when her fluffy socks slid on the wooden floor. Fitzroy started to come over, to try and help, when she shouted, “Don’t touch me!” 

He stayed back, per her wishes, watching helplessly as she reached for her wheelchair in reach, climbing into it and rolling into her room. The door slammed on him, making Fitzroy flinch. 

Not knowing what else to do, Fitzroy grabbed his laptop and went back to his own room, staring helplessly into his terrarium. “Snippers,” he said, “I think I messed up.”


	5. Somewhere after midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After messing up so terribly with Rainer, Fitzroy attempts to make things right, but may be in even deeper trouble than before.

Fitzroy didn’t sleep that night. He tried, at some points, but his mind wouldn’t let him. He sat and listened a bit, thinking on what he’d said yesterday. He should never have showed her those photos. He tried coming up with excuses as to why he’d done it, informing her of the threat, having her take him seriously, but in the end it came to pride. He couldn’t stand the thought that she thought his job wasn’t serious. And for that he’d done more to frighten her than the stalker had been able. 

He heard her moving around occasionally, but it was just some simple shuffling. He was pretty sure she wasn’t sleeping either. He thought for a moment about going to check on her, but what would he say? Hadn’t he said enough? 

He stared into the glossy eyes of the dead raccoon in his room. He had come to kind of like it, though he’d been freaked out to stare into it’s eyes at first. The taxidermy was excellently done, he’d been sure it was alive his first day here. Now it had been, what, a week? 2? Maybe more than 2. 2 weeks spending 24 hours around Rainer. And he’d wrecked it. 

Maybe he should request to be transferred. Rainer surely wouldn’t trust him anymore, and if she didn’t trust him, he couldn’t protect her. 

At around 6 am, he heard a knock at the door that finally lifted him to his feet. He rushed into the living room, ready to fight whatever threat he had imagined up in the space of 2 seconds. 

Rainer was sitting at her little breakfast table that she used as a dining room. She was chewing on a granola bar and reading papers. “It’s Mimi,” she said, “I asked them to come.”

“I still have to answer—“

“I know,” she cut him off, not looking up at him. “Go ahead.”

Fitzroy swallowed, awkward, and went to look through the peephole. Indeed, Mimi the intern was on the other side, holding a brown paper bag. He opened it up, checking up and down the hall quickly to make sure everything was ok. “Hey there, fancylad,” Mimi said smiling. It was apparently a nickname Argo was trying to start, “Delivery for the Congresswoman!” They handed the bag over. 

“Thank’s Mimi,” Rainer called from the table, “I already told Argo, but I won’t be in the office today.”

“I heard!” They said, cheerily, “Feel better!” They waved before skipping off. 

Fitzroy closed the door, looking at Rainer. There were some bags under her eyes and her hair was unbrushed. “You’re sick?” He asked.

She shrugged, “Bad pain day,” she said, “I’ll do some work from home. Argo can hold down the fort easily enough.” 

Fitzroy swallowed, guilty, wondering if his scaring her had somehow caused this. Maybe not directly, but possibly by keeping her awake as she clearly hadn’t slept and then that had hurt her. He didn’t know if it was true, but he blamed himself anyway, just to be safe. 

Remembering Mimi’s delivery, he held it out to her. She shook her head, not taking it. “It’s for you,” she said, “It’s a gift.”

A gift? He thought, confused. Why on Earth would she be giving him a gift right now? He put it on the table, revealing a styrofoam container. “Ah, ok,” he said, “So, I know you might be angry at me, but um. If this is crab I’m going to be really upset. Like I understand taking things out on me, but don’t take them out on poor Snippers, you know?”

“Just open it,” she said, smiling.

Concerned, he did as was told, revealing a crepe. It was a little banged up from travel, but it had little strawberries and whipped cream all over it. Fitzroy gasped in delight, “Oh! Oh goodness, this looks delicious, it’s my favorite kind and—“His brain stopped short, “And….why are you giving this to me?”

She smiled, a little lacking in her usual exuberance, but it was a smile nonetheless. “It’s an apology,” she said, “And...a thank you. I’ve been treating this whole situation as...well, not with as much severity as it deserved.” She swallowed, and he noticed her shake a bit. 

Fitzroy took the seat opposite her, “No,” he said, “I need to apologize. My job is to make it so you don’t have to think about that kind of thing. And...I messed up.”

She smiled kindly at him. “I’m glad you showed me,” she said, “I like to know everything around me and how it all stacks up. I like to know the bigger picture.”

Fitzroy shook his head, “I still shouldn’t have done it, not like that. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Her smile twitched, and he couldn’t read it. “Please, enjoy the crepe,” She said, handing him a fork that was on the table. 

He took it, and carved out a bite full of cream. It was just as delicious as it looked, and he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “So,” She said, “I think I found something on these,” She spread out her papers, and Fitzroy nearly choked when he realized they were the photos. He must have accidentally left them out. “This is a weird frame ratio, so I think—“

Fitzroy tried to grab them from her hands, but she pulled them back, “You don’t need to look at that,” He said, trying to take them.

“I can help,” she said, trying to tug it back, “It’s my life, I can help find the person.”

“We’re handling it,” he said, “There’s a whole team that is looking for this guy. People who are trained to do it.”

“Well it’s my life!” She said, voice rising, “I should be able to find the one who wants to kill me!” 

Fitzroy let go of the paper in shock, making her reel back. 

The room was silent, except for the ringing in Fitzroy’s ears, her words echoing around them. She held the papers close, like a lifeline. “So,” she said, clearing her throat, but not before Fitzroy heard the slight warble of tears, “Like I said, the ratio is odd, you don’t see this much these days. I think the photo was originally taken on a Polaroid camera, and then scanned later.”

Fitzroy nodded slowly, “That lines up with what our analysts think.” 

She bit her lip, looking the papers over, and he really wished she wouldn’t. He didn’t really like looking at them anymore. “Since this started recently, I’m wondering if it’s a scare tactic set by one of the mining companies. Maybe they hired someone, to sabotage my bill.”

“I don’t think…” He swallowed, trying very hard to parse out what he would say, which felt like trying to build a house with oatmeal, “Our analysts have created a profile for him. Probably male, probably living in your district, and probably has some ties to some alt-right white supremacy groups.” He swallowed, “Sometimes...sometimes it’s not about politics and strategy and tactics. Sometimes people are just full of hate.”

He didn’t know if that was the right thing to say. Her defenses seemed to be slipping and the papers were shaking in her hands. “I don’t understand,” she said, “I can’t—how could someone—what did I do to—“

“You didn’t do anything,” Fitzroy said, getting out of his chair and kneeling in front of her, “Listen, this is not your fault. Not any of it.”

“That’s what makes it worse!” She said, “If it was something I did…Something I could make up for or fight against...I just.” She sniffed, wiping her eyes, “I hate not being in control.”

Fitzroy sighed, “I definitely understand that. I feel that way all the time.” So, so much of the time, he thought to himself. 

Her breath hitched, “I hate,” she said, voice stilted, “I hate being so angry. I hate...being afraid.”

“Hey,” He said, taking her hand in his. “Anger in this case is….reasonable. As someone who’s angry a lot that might not mean much, but,” he bit his lip, “You don’t have to be scared, Rainer. I’m here to protect you. I WILL protect you, against anything the world has to throw. I promise.” He squeezed her hands, trying to have her understand. He realized only in the moment that he meant it, as more than just his job, as more than just an agent. He would do anything to protect her, and he couldn’t figure out why.

She smiled at him, eyes still sparkling with tears. “You called me Rainer,” she said.

Fitzroy gulped, going over his words. He’d been good with the division between what he said in his head or in person, but it had apparently slipped out. “Sorry ma’am...uh, Congresswoman—“

“No,” She said squeezing his hands back, “It’s fine, it’s...it’s good.” 

The tension in the room bled away only to be replaced with something new, something Fitzroy couldn’t identify, but was pretty sure he was unequipped to handle. He certainly wasn’t sure what to do next. 

Rainer saved him, clearing her throat and releasing his hands. “Your crepe is getting cold,” she said. 

Fitzroy stood, looking to the mostly-uneaten crepe. “Would you like some?” He offered. She smiled and nodded. 

He pulled his chair over, grabbing another fork, and they both dug in. 

They fought over the last bite of crepe with giggles and dueling forks. Rainer solved the dilemma, splitting the bite into two equal pieces they ate at the same time. She then laughed at him for accidentally smearing the whip cream all over his face, looking like he had a mustache. He played into it, doing an incredible impression of Argo that sent her into stitches.

“As your security head,” Fitzroy finally said, “It is my official recommendation that you spend the day watching...some terrifying cooking show that you enjoy.”

“For my safety, of course,” she said, smiling.

He nodded sagely, “Of course. Safety.” 

She looked over to the couch, “Just cause my body hates me today, would you mind helping me? For my safety.”

He smiled, “Certainly.” He easily swept her up into his arms, leaving her to clutch for support around his neck, giving a small yelp. “Are you alright?”

“Mmhmm,” she said, though the action had surprised her so much she was bright red. “I meant like, give me a hand with walking or something.”

“Oh,” he said, realizing that was the obvious solution. He started to put her down. “Sorry, I’ll—“

“No, no,” She said, not setting her feet down, “It’s fine. Carry on, Agent Maplecourt.”

He nodded, holding her more firmly, “Yes Ma’am.”

It was a short walk to the couch. She showed him the show ‘Nailed It’ which was easy to binge, and Fitzroy actually ended up liking. She checked her email on her phone occasionally, sending out messages and approvals to Argo, but soon enough her sleepless night was catching up with her, and she nodded off, falling until she landed on Fitzroy’s arm. 

Fitzroy froze, not wanting to wake her, and mind effectively going blank. It was an uncomfortable position, so while he was still booting up, he put his arm around her instead. She curled into his chest like it was the softest feather pillow in the world. 

Fitzroy didn’t like the term ‘stupid.’ He might not be the brainiest bulb in the drawer, but he didn’t think of himself as ‘stupid.’ In his youth if someone called him stupid, he’d probably have started a fight. When he was older, he would have yelled at them and….well he still might have started a fight. 

But this moment more than any classroom, any bad grade, any sort of error, gave Fitzroy undeniable evidence that he was in fact stupid. Because it was only now, with this beautiful, kind, smart, eccentric and amazing woman he’d spent two weeks with sleeping in his arms did he realize he was in love with her.

And he was screwed. 

“Oh, Fitzroy,” RaineR said as they headed towards the secret service gym, “I need to go shopping tomorrow. Map of the place should be in your email.”

Fitzroy popped his head up, “Sure thing!” He said, making sure to smile at her. She smiled back before rolling up to Crush. He gave her a big hug, and she excitedly told him about all the stretches she’d been doing at home. Once Fitzroy was satisfied she was properly distracted, he went back to his important business of sulk-panicking. It was a fun new invention his emotions had created for just this situation.

He’d been living the past two days with his realization of the worst possible thing, and ever since had been running through the exact same argument in his mind.

He should resign, right? Or, get reassigned? A new guard who wouldn’t fall in love with her? But like, who wouldn’t fall in love her, she was so amazing and bright and she lit up a room and—nope, bad brain. Not dwelling on that. 

More importantly, a switch up now would mean there would be a lot of turnover, and the new guard would probably be less experienced then him...the tricky thing about being in love was he was only concerned with her safety now. 

God, but it was torture. His emotions were never what one would call ‘stable,’ but now they were on the fritz. Anytime she smiled at him, he was struck and warm all over. Anytime people were mean online, he was extra defensive. And, well, given it was his job to look at death threats to her, that was thoroughly unpleasant.

“Fitzroy, huh?” A voice said, behind him. He turned and saw Jimson leaning against the wall.

“Hm?” Fitzroy asked. Jimson never called him that.

“The congresswoman,” he nodded over to where Crush was setting her up with weights, “she called you ‘Fitzroy’ and you didn’t correct her.

“Oh,” he said, the panicking part of his mind exploding to new levels. He hadn’t noticed. But to be honest he also hadn’t minded, and that was scarier still. All the more scarier was that Jimson was still looking at him and probably expected some sort of explanation, and saying he was desperately in love with her was probably not gonna cut it. “Just thought. Better to fight the battles you can win, you know?” He said, swallowing.

He couldn’t tell if Jimson bought it. “So, things are going well? He asked.

“Well, I mean,” he said, “the perpetrator’s still out there, so I don’t know how ‘well’ things are going.”

Jimson hummed. “I was worried about giving you this assignment,” he said, “I know you’ve struggled with interpersonal skills before. There haven’t been any incidents, have there?”

Fitzroy was sure Jimson could hear his heart beating. “I’ve...handled everything,” Fitzroy said, not even sure himself if that was a lie or not, “We’re getting along...really well.” Too well, his mind supplied. Why couldn’t she have been a jerk? 

Jimson nodded, “Good. That’s good to hear.”

He looked like he was going to walk away, to some other business or maybe work out himself. Fitzroy should have let him, but he had already admitted to himself he was stupid, so maybe this was just adding onto the pile. “Agent Jimson, you’re married, right?” He asked. Everyone knew he and Crush were married, so the question was sort of moot, but here he was.

Jimson paused, looking back at him. “Yes,” he answered, calmly and curiously.

Fitzroy swallowed, looking over where Crush and Rainer were working on some bench presses, Crush spotting her. Rainer was in a tank top, a thin gleam of sweat covering her skin. She should have looked a mess, but to Fitzroy she glowed. “How do you handle it,” he asked, “with Crush being an agent too, and like. You’re both in danger all the time. People might try to kill either one of you, and it’s your job to be there. How does that not drive you insane?”

It felt like Jimson was scanning his soul. What he found, Fitzroy wasn’t sure, but he said, “A lot of trust. First, of course, trust in him, that he will handle himself,” he nodded at Crush, “Second, trust in the world, that most people aren’t actually going to try to kill us. And finally, trust with my fellow Agents.” He paused, looking over at Crush and Rainer himself. “Do you remember what I told you, when I gave you this assignment?”

“You said you needed me out of the White House for a while.”

Jimson laughed, “Yes, that,” he said, “But I also said you needed to learn how to be an Agent, not a Hero. Hero’s are shown in movies, they do the daring tasks, they jump in front of a bullet, they drag people to safety. And if you need to, you should. But more important, they prevent that from ever being necessary. They de-escalate the situation. Because prevention is the best way to protect people.”

Fitzroy frowned, trying to process it, “So, we’re like….bullet vaccines?”

Jimson laughed again, “Something like that,” he said, and patted Fitzroy on the back. “You’ll make a good agent, someday. Just remember that it’s most important to protect her. As long as you keep that in mind, you should be set.”

Fitzroy nodded. He looked to Rainer, who was taking a break from the weights and drinking some water. And he knew he would do anything to keep her safe, including putting his own pride on hold. “I can do that.”


	6. White Knight upon a fiery steed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitzroy is handling his new feelings as well as can be expected. As Rainer prepares for an upcoming gala, she also throws a surprise into Fitzroy’s careful plans.

“What do you think of this one?” Rainer asked, holding up a dress to him. This one was a deep cerulean with a lot of fluttery parts all over it. 

Fitzroy gave it a glance, but didn’t consider it too long. “I told you I’m not going to be helping you with shopping,” he reminded her again, “but that one has a weird neckline, it’s going to make you look like you’re choking.”

“Hmm,” Rainer said, considering the dress in her arms, “Yeah, you’re right.” She reached up and put it back on the rack, rolling over to the next section to consider them. 

Fitzroy walked slowly alongside her, protecting her from view of the surrounding mall. It wasn’t too packed, but there were definitely a number of people wandering around, too many for his comfort. 

“I feel like black might be too on the nose,” she said, rattling on as she continued looking, “Besides, I wear a lot of black. But I mean, black also looks good with everything.” She sighed, considering a simple black one strap. She clucked her tongue before putting it onto the pile of dresses to try on. “Are you going to want anything while we’re here?” She asked. 

“I think going into a fitting room would violate a good chunk of my job,” he said, though he was disappointed. He actually really liked going shopping and trying on new clothes. And the store was having a sale on menswear, no less!

But no. Job was more important than anything, including shopping. “Well, do you have something you can wear to the gala?” Rainer asked, “You are going to be going as my date, and I need some good looking arm candy.”

Fitzroy snorted, “Is that what I’m supposed to be?”

“Oh don’t worry,” she said, “With your cheekbones, you’re a natural.”

Fitzroy looked away so he had time to get control of the blood rushing to his face. She was being nice, she was nice to everybody (so extraordinarily nice), and even if she wasn’t, it didn’t change anything. It did give him a nice fluttery feeling in his chest though. If only he could get a fly shatter and smash the little butterflies in his stomach. 

Fitzroy cleared his throat, trying to think of something to say. “Well, I have a burgundy dress jacket and matching bow tie. I was planning on wearing that.”

“Burgundy, eh?” Rainer said. When he turned back, Rainer was struggling, trying to reach for a dress on one of the high hangars. 

Fitzroy was at her side in an instant, “Do you need me to get that for you?”

“No, no,” she said, voice strained as she reached for the corner of the hangar, “I know you’re not supposed to have anything in your hands on duty. Don’t worry, I got this.” Despite what she said, she collapsed back into her chair, staring up at the hanger like it was her nemesis. 

Fitzroy looked awkwardly between her and the dress. “Can you...I mean, could you stand up and get it? How are you feeling today?” Was she having a flare up and he didn’t notice?

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said, “But the last time I just stood up to grab something in public, the press were running stories on how I was faking for votes. Took months to get over that publicity.” She looked around the store, like she was solving a puzzle. 

Fitzroy sneered at humanity as a whole, but Rainer was wheeling away again. He thought she had given up on the dress, but she returned quickly, wielding a long hook meant for grabbing clothing off the top wall. The sales woman looked a little scandalized that someone was moving it from it’s place, but Rainer just gave her a smile, and he could almost hear the mental ‘fuck you.’

The hook was a bit too long for Rainer’s purposes, so it took a second to figure out a proper angle. Fitzroy couldn’t hold back a snort, which made Rainer send him a scowl. “Sorry,” he said, “Just, you look like you’re trying to joust the dress.” 

She smiled herself. “Just call me a knight in shining pumps,” she said, grabbing the dress off the rack. Fitzroy smirked, turning to do another search around the mall. “What are you doing?” She asked. 

“Just keeping an eye out,” he said, “Don’t mind me.”

“I know that,” she said, rolling up beside him, “I meant, how do you do it? What’s the process, how can you tell if someone’s a threat?” 

Fitzroy opened his mouth to answer, when a dangerous thought entered his mind and latched on before he could think too much about it. “Can I move your chair? Just to show you.” 

She bit her lip, considering, then nodded. Fitzroy took the back of it, and rolled her to face left, then spun it to face forward, then right. Finally he turned her around towards him. “What did you see?”

Rainer tilted her head, thinking. “There’s a mom and daughter on the left, looking at lingerie,” She pointed behind her, “A man browsing watches,” and then to the right, “aaand, an employee re-stocking the racks.”

Fitzroy nodded. There were a few other things, but those were the most obvious. “Anything weird about any of that?”

Rainer squinted at him, wondering if it was a trick question. “The man was still wearing his coat despite the fact this mall has the heat up all the way.” She frowned, “But maybe he just didn’t want to carry it around.”

“Maybe,” he nodded, “But I’m gonna keep my eye on him still. And I’ll know where he goes, and when he leaves.” 

She smirked, “So, your job is just being paranoid.” 

He shrugged, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

She laughed, eyes sparkling. He had to look away again. If she saw his blush, she didn’t mention it. “Now for an important question,” She lifted not one, but two burgundy dresses. “Which one of these says ‘I’m going to steal your grandchild’s yacht money to fund urban development projects?’” 

Fitzroy chuckled, looking between of them. Neither were quite right. “Come with me,” he said, leading her to the wall. “This one.”

She took a breath, looking at the dress. “That is a lot of sparkles,” she said.

He shrugged, “You wanted the drama.” 

She hummed, considering. “It’s not burgundy though. We won’t match.”

“You just have to accessorize right.” He said, “I got something in mind.” She frowned, suspicious, but didn’t say anything. 

She sighed, used her hook to get the right size of dress, and pulled it down. “Ooh, it is nice fabric. Very flowy.” She rolled to the fitting room, a simple closet with a door that was very unlikely to have any security threats in it. “I’ll be right out!” 

As soon as she was inside, Fitzroy wandered just a bit to the jewelry department. He made sure to keep his periphery fixed on the fitting room door at all times, but there was no one even close to it, and he knew exactly what he was getting. 

It was several minutes later when the door unlatched, grabbing Fitzroy’s attention. He turned and saw Rainer roll out, dress draping off her. 

It was a charcoal grey/black dress, with an array of sparkles emanating from the bottom, sleeves, and neckline. The neckline in question was a plunging v that showed her cleavage rather well, if Fitzroy had anything to say on it, and the sleeves were wide bells that made her look like she had wings.

Time stopped for a good long moment as Fitzroy looked at her, the sparkles matching her eyes, the color making her skin warm and her hair a golden waterfall. It was only as he was admiring the neckline that he realized she was speaking, “—Roy?”

“Huh?” He said, as intelligently as possible.

“I said, what do you think?” She repeated, extending her legs for him to see the full picture.

Fitzroy gulped, “It’s lovely,” he said, and then, because he needed to cut this train of thought off right the hell now, “Definitely like you’re going to scare someone on Fox News.”

She laughed, which was just not helping Fitzroy’s whole deal right now. “You mentioned some accessories?” She said. 

“Oh,” he said, remembering what he was holding. “It’s a little Avant Garde, but I thought it would fit your whole aesthetic.”

He held out the necklace he had found, a red gem or maybe a glass bauble, with a mark on the inside to make it look like a terrifying red eyeball. It was attached with a pair of silver chains that would tie with the sparkles.

Rainer snorted when she saw it, “Oh my god, it’s perfect,” she said, “It looks like the eye of Sarumon!”

He smiled, “I just thought it was kinda creepy, but overall pretty,” he said, not quite meeting her eyes, “Plus, you know. Perfect for draining the wallets of poor young billionaires.”

She chuckled, then pulled her hair forward, and turning a little. It took him a moment to realize she was offering her neck up for him to put the necklace on. 

He all but held his breath as he reached around her, struggling a bit with the clasp. She had freckles on her back. God, how cute was that? He wanted to lean down and kiss them, which was big red flag no-no. 

The clasp finally connected and he cleared his throat, backing away, “Uh, there. Should be good.”

She touched the pendant lightly, turning to the mirror to see how it looked. “It’s perfect,” she said.

Fitzroy couldn’t help the smile on his face. 

“So just so you know the plan for the gala,” Rainer said when they were home, sitting on the couch to eat their microwave lasagna because the table was just too uncomfortable right now, “My target for the evening is going to be Congressman Rolandus Fontaine. He’s the head of this congressional boy band that wants to kill not just my bill, but Buckminster’s as well. It’s my job to scare him right into Buckminster’s compromising arms, and that’ll get his cronies to fall in line.”

“Huh,” Fitzroy said, “Why at the gala and not like...any other time?” 

Rainer smirked at him, “It’s more public. More embarrassing. And the President will be there, so no doubt that’ll bring the White House in on the issue.” 

Fitzroy sighed, rubbing his forehead. “So, you’ll be the center of attention at a big fancy public event. Great.”

She smirked. “Like I said, the President will be there. So at least it should be more secure.”

Fitzroy grumped. “All I have to do is stand there next to you, right? What if people talk to me?”

“They will,” she said, “And I’m sure you’ll get a bunch of ‘thank you for your services,’ and what not. But really you can just be next to me.”

Fitzroy nodded. He liked fancy events, and when working for the office, this was the kind of assignment he’d have loved to get. But now all he could think of was all the people around him who might hurt Rainer. It was silly, she was right, it should be a secure event. He was bordering on overprotective, he knew. As long as he put it in check, it should be fine. 

“Will we have to do any dancing?” He asked. Rainer raised an eyebrow at him. She flicked her eyes to the chair. “Well, I don’t know!” He said, “I didn’t want to assume!”

She laughed at him, “Some people in wheelchairs dance. A lot, probably. But you really need a partner who knows what they’re doing, and I haven’t exactly met many people who know.”

Fitzroy once again cursed the world. She hadn’t met anyone? Not anyone that would just learn so they could dance with her? Who wouldn’t want to dance with her? He shook himself. “It can’t be that hard,” he said, pulling up his laptop, “Let me see what it entails.”

Google searches resulted in a lot of what Rainer called ‘disability porn’ of news stories about people learning to dance for weddings and proms. It wasn’t even that helpful. Eventually he had to just filter out words like ‘inspiring’ and ‘hero’ as though being a hero was making someone not feel weird. 

There were also a bunch of different varieties of dance, most of which Fitzroy definitely didn’t have time to practice, and would involve a lot of coordination. Eventually, though, they found a simple video of a couple dancing, gripping each other’s forearms and spinning along a dance floor. The standing one mostly kept to the side of the chair, but they were able to make some decent spins and twirls. “It could work,” Fitzroy said, “I probably could do this,”

Rainer, who over the course of the search ended up curled around him. “Possibly,” she said, “I’m worried I’d wheel over your toes.”

“No more of a fear than stepping,” he said, trying to smile about it, “I’d be willing to try.”

She turned to him, and suddenly their faces were much closer than he was expecting. “You don’t have to, you know,” she said, her voice surprisingly soft. “I don’t want to jeapordize your security sweeps or whatever.”

He swallowed. He could feel her breath on his face, her nose inches from his own. She must have realized herself by now, but she wasn’t backing away. And neither was he. “It’s fine,” he said, “Like you said. There will be other secret service there. And besides, dancing across the floor could give me a better vantage point to scope out the area.”

She smiled, and gave a laugh through her nose. “Well. If it’s for my safety.” Her eyes were close to his now. She blinked slowly.

“Absolutely,” he said, and he knew what was happening deep in his heart, but couldn’t think of a reason to stop himself. “All….for the safety….” He felt a gentle touch, lip against lip, and he wasn’t strong enough to stop himself from turning it into a kiss. 

It was the breaking of water tension, a dewdrop turned into a rivulet, gentle, but full of relief. He felt like he could breath, really breath for the first time as he took in her scent, the soft feeling of her lips covered in some lip balm. She tilted her head, pressing in further, and he wanted nothing more to press back, to hold her close and bring her in…

...but he guessed his brain had to come back eventually. He pulled away, looking down at her she stared up with her big old doe eyes, looking so confused. “I can’t,” he said, barely over a whisper. 

She backed away, swallowing, and he couldn’t help but read pain there. It was too much, “It’s not that I...I just…” words were never his strong suit, and now of all times, they had completely abandoned him. “It’s my job, I can’t...I can’t protect you, it—“

“I understand,” she said, sitting back. 

She had accepted his response, but still he felt responsible. He stood up, backing away. “I could,” he said, “I could resign, so you could have another guard, and—“

“No,” she answered quickly, “No, you...you promised. You promised to protect me.” She swallowed, “You’re who I feel safe with.”

He crushed down the feelings that sprung up. Lacking any more words, he turned and went to his room, pretending he didn’t hear little sobs and sniffles through the door. 

He picked up his laptop, deciding to do some work, anything to get his mind off the past 5 minutes. There was a new email his agency had intercepted from the stalker. He frowned at the subject line, ‘I like the necklace.’

He opened the attachment. Inside was another scanned Polaroid, a grainy photo of Rainer and himself at the mall. He was putting the necklace around her. 

Fitzroy slammed the computer shut, tossing it across the bed. He clutched his hair in fistfuls, losing himself to the mix of emotions swirling inside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been so excited to write this chapter. And the next few, as it happens...


	7. Gotta be Sure, Gotta be Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitzroy escorts Rainer to the gala, feeling awkward. He must balance his desire to make her happy and his duty to keep her safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Assault, technically, and ableist behavior. 
> 
> Oh also hints at Buckminster/Leon cause I ship that too, but you can ignore it if ya don’t.

“Ready?” Fitzroy asked. 

Rainer nodded, and he extended his arm. She slipped her hand into the loop and let him lead her into the ballroom. 

The room was already filled with Washington elites, senators, congressmen, staff, deputies from a number of departments, and of course, lobbyists. A few heads turned their way, but most kept to themselves. 

Fitzroy made eye contact with Jimson, standing against the wall. Naturally he was here tonight. On the safety end, it was a relief, but Fitzroy still felt unease with Rainer. Did Jimson know?

“Rainer!” Argo called her over. “You look stunning! Ready to wheel right on over your enemies!”

She nodded at him. He was standing in a group with Bud, Buckminster Eden, and Leon. “That is the goal, as it were,” she said, giving him a wink. “Buckminster, you mind stepping aside with me to discuss some strategies.”

“Certainly,” Buckminster said, handing his champagne glass to Leon, “Shall we take a walk-er—roll?” 

Rainer hummed, “A walk will be fine.”

She started to roll away, releasing Fitzroy’s arm. He felt...oddly empty. “Do you need me to—“

“I’ll be fine,” Rainer cut him off. He supposed she was right, she didn’t really need him to stand right next to her here. Still, he felt like something was wrong letting her go. 

“So,” Argo said to the remaining group of staff members, “What was up with Rainer, huh?” 

“What?” Fitzroy said, “What do you mean?”

Bud hummed in agreement with Argo. “She’s very sad.”

“What are you talking about?” Fitzroy said, “she’s fine, she…” he looked over to wear Rainer was talking with Buckminster, and felt another wave of guilt crash over him. She was looking oddly solemn.

“Agent Maplecourt?” Leon said, keeping his voice low. “Did something happen?”

Fitzroy swallowed, looking between the three of them. “You know I can’t discuss the congresswoman’s personal life.” It was the truth and a cover, conveniently packaged into one. 

“Hmm,” Argo said, squinting at him, “so it’s personal huh?”

Fitzroy scowled at him. Leon thankfully saved him by speaking up, “do you think it’s about that interview the other day?”

“Maybe,” Argo said, “she seemed pretty shaken about it, but was fine later.”

Honestly, Fitzroy wasn’t listening anymore. He watched Rainer talking to Buckminster, noting a certain lack of smile on her face. She was always smiling and happy, no wonder the assistants thought something was wrong. 

This was getting untenable. Maybe he should have ignored her, and left anyway. Maybe he should have been dramatic, quitting the service entirely and declaring his undying love. But every time he thought that, he remembered what she said, that she felt safe. He felt like he’d tricked her somehow. He didn’t know what to do anymore, and he couldn’t ask anyone else for help.

And more than all of that, he wanted her to smile again. 

She and Buckminster returned, stopping the staff’s conversation quickly. “Rolandus isn’t here yet,” she told them, “We’re just going to have to wait and—“

She was cut off by the music. Everyone (except Rainer) stood as the President and the First Lady entered. The music started a waltz as the President escorted his wife to the floor, and began the dancing. 

“Well,” Buckminster said, “Looks like a wonderful opportunity to enjoy this party.” He held his arm out to Leon. Leon hesitated, stuttering for a moment, but took the arm and was led out along with many other couples onto the floor to start dancing. 

Fitzroy’s eyebrows went flying into his hair. “Are they….”

“Oh, no,” Rainer said, “Buckminster wouldn’t date one of his staff, there’s no way to avoid a power dynamic issue.”

“Ah,” Fitzroy said, watching the pair of them dance. “And Leon…” 

“Oh, he’s crazy about him,” Rainer said, watching, “Buckminster’s completely oblivious.”

Fitzroy smiled. Circumstances aside, they seemed sweet. “Alrighty,” Argo said, “I’m going to go see how Congresswoman Zana feels about dancing.”

Rainer raised an eyebrow at him, “Zana? Really?”

Argo shrugged, “Want to see if I can get any insider tips from her office.” Argo gave them a wink. Rainer snorted as Argo walked off, leaving them behind. 

Fitzroy stood awkwardly beside Rainer. He wanted to ask her to dance, but wasn’t sure how the offer would be received. He didn’t want her to feel he was leading her on only to turn her down again. Still, as long as they were standing off to the side here with Bud—

“This is…” Bud said, cutting off his thoughts, “Awkward,” he said, and then shuffled off to who-knows-where.

Fitzroy met Rainer’s eyes briefly. She went back to staring at her hands, fiddling with them in her lap. The others were right, she looked miserable. 

Screw it. “May I have this dance, Congresswoman?” He asked, holding out his hand. She looked up. “I said I’d try. Besides, I could use a good look around. For safety.”

He saw the corner of her mouth twitch. “What are you doing?” She asked. 

He swallowed back his first reaction ‘no idea.’ “I simply—Well, we’re still undercover, and...and we can still be friends of course, so it makes sense to—“

“Agent Maplecourt,” she said, keeping her voice down as she turned to face him, “What. Are. You. Doing.”

Fitzroy tensed his jaw. “You seem...unhappy.”

Rainer looked away again, “My happiness isn’t your job.”

“No…” he admitted, “And I know I can’t...I can’t fix everything,” he saw her flinch, “But I can do what I can.”

Rainer bit her lip considering. It was a hard thing he was asking her, he realized, to dance and pretend everything was alright even though it wasn’t and wouldn’t be. Still, she finally offered up her arm, and he took it, guiding her along. 

He wracked his brain, trying to remember all the steps from the videos online. He remembered to keep to the side of the chair, holding her forearms in his, and guiding her in wide circles to accommodate the wheels. 

“You look,” Rainer interrupted his train of thoughts hesitantly, “You look...nice.”

He smiled at her, “Suitable arm candy?” He joked, which got her to chuckle though was trying to hold it in. 

“Very suitable,” she said. He led her into a twirl, spinning her in a tight circle that got her to giggle. “I’ve never actually danced at any of these functions,” she said, guiding her wheels to follow his steps. 

“Me neither,” he said. “Then again, I haven’t been to any of these either.”

She looked up as they just spun lazily at the edges of the dance floor, “You know, when we first met, I kinda thought you were just an arrogant jerk.”

Fitzroy whined just a bit. “Well, I thought you were a maniacal animal killer,” he said, “So I guess it evens out.”

She gave a fake scoff of irritation, but her smile was creeping back on her face. “You really don’t have the right to be so charming.”

“I didn’t know accusing someone of animal murder was charming,” he smirked at her, getting her to laugh, “I’ll have to put that in the books.”

She looked around while they danced. “Everyone’s staring,” She said.

He followed her eyes. True, there were many people looking and pointing over at them, like they’d never seen a wheelchair before. “Well, how can they not,” he said, “I told you that dress would bring the drama.”

She pulled him just a bit closer, their circles just a bit tighter. “Well, I hope I’m not distracting from your patrol of the area,” 

Oh. Right. He was supposed to be doing that. He’d let himself relax a bit with all the extra security around, but it was still prudent to…

He caught a flash of a camera somewhere in the press pool that didn’t seem quite right. It was just...different than the other cameras and lights around them. When he tried to find he, he caught a glimpse of a face, a man heading to the back of the crowd and away. Something about the face seemed familiar…

“He’s here,” Rainer said, sending a shock through him. Fitzroy turned, following her gaze to the opposite end of the room. Congressman Rolandus Fontaine had just entered the gala. 

“I better get going,” she said, releasing his arms and rolling off the dance floor. Fitzroy allowed himself a moment to look back in the press pool, but then followed her. 

“Congressman Fontaine!” Rainer said in her usual chipper voice, though Rolandus looked less pleased upon seeing her. “I was wondering when you’d arrive.” She rolled right up to him, blocking his path to the rest of the gala, “Have you met my date for the evening? Fitzroy Maplecourt, this is Congressman Rolandus Fontaine.”

Fitzroy held out his hand to him. “My pleasure,” he said.

Fontaine looked him up and down. “Ah, right,” he said, “I’ve seen you around. Two tours in Afghanistan, yes?” Fitzroy didn’t really like talking about that time. Not his proudest accomplishment… “I did three in Iraq myself! It’s good to meet someone who really respects the armed forces around here.”

Oh. Oh he HATED this guy. It was one thing to talk about supporting troops, but he clearly thought it made him superior in some way. Fitzroy didn’t say that, though, just smiled and shook his hand. 

“Congressman,” Rainer said, trying to bring the attention back to herself, “I was hoping to see where you stood on this union labor debate, I of course have some of my hesitance about Eden’s bill myself but you—“

“Michelle,” Fontaine said without the title, “If you have something you wish to discuss, you can make a meeting with my office. But I have some people I’d like to greet here…”

Fitzroy followed his eyeline, not to a person, but a waiter with a drink tray. Then, behind him, he caught a glimpse of that face again. He was behind a lot of people and hard to make out, but Fitzroy was sure he’d seen him before.

“This really will be brief, Congressman,” Rainer said, maintaining her sense of politeness. She didn’t exactly have him boxed in, but he would certainly have to make a wider circle around them both in order to continue on his destination. “But wouldn’t you agree it is in the best interests of the workers in the mines to keep their representation in order to work things out with their supervisors so that everyone can be happy?”

Fitzroy honestly wasn’t listening anymore to the conversation about unions and insurance fraud and culpability. He was trying to get a better look at this man that was wandering around, without making it to obvious that it was what he was doing. He was dressed up, which wasn’t unusual but he was also wearing a pretty heavy coat indoors. It was plenty cold outside, but…

Fitzroy realized where he’d seen him before. The mall, the man who hadn’t taken off his coat. A coincidence? Possible, but honestly unlikely. Fitzroy opened his mouth, about to make some excuse to Rainer about wandering around so he could investigate, when he heard her yelp. 

Frustrated, Rolandus apparently decided to take it upon himself to move Rainer out of his way, grabbing hold of her chair and wheeling her to the side. Fitzroy, already with adrenaline running through his veins, grabbed hold of Rolandus’ arm and threw him to the ground. 

The music stopped and the room turned to them in shock. “YOU SON OF A BITCH, ARE YOU CRAZY!” Rolandus shouted from the floor. Fitzroy had already let go and backed away. Rolandus was completely red-faced, cradling his arm though Fitzroy knew he hadn’t hurt him that bad, “MotherFUCKER You don’t have any right to do that to me! I’ll have you arrested!” 

People were swarming towards them, guards on alert, along with Argo, Bud, and Buckminster rushing to Rainer’s side. “You grabbed the Congresswoman’s chair without permission,” Fitzroy explained, “That’s assault.”

Rolandus looked about ready to go on another tirade, but his own staff was pulling him back. Rainer’s friends stood by her side, each asking if she was ok and if they could do anything, while Fitzroy felt his arm nearly pulled out of his socket. Jimson was waving down the other guards, taking him off to the side. “Calm down, I saw the whole thing,” Jimson said, “He was way out of line, but I’ve told you about trying to be the hero and—“

“There’s a man in the press pool, bald head and heavy coat at your 9:00,” he said, trying to gesture with a nod of his head. Jimson looked out of the corner of his eyes. “I saw him at the mall while the Congresswoman and I were there.” 

Fitzroy saw the moment Jimson locked on the man in question. He pulled a camera from his heavy coat. A polaroid camera. Jimson’s eyes went wide and he opened his mouth, but Fitzroy cut him off. “I need to get the Congresswoman out of here to safety while you take him into custody and investigate. I’ll drive her to a safe house while you figure this all out.”

Jimson hesitated a moment, looking surprised. “Sounds like a good plan, Agent,” and Fitzroy couldn’t help but read some pride in his voice, “Get to it, I’ll keep you updated.”

Fitzroy gave a curt nod and walked quickly over to Rainer. “Is everything alright?” She asked him, “You’re not in trouble, are you?”

“We need to go.” He said “I’m going to push your chair, alright?” She frowned, ready to argue, but he stopped her. “I told you, when I say we go, we have to go.”

Her frown cleared and he watched her put together the pieces. She gave a nod, waving off her friends, and he pushed her out of the hall and away from all prying eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re getting into it now folks. 
> 
> Oh, also, after I was already several chapters in i actually did research. For benefits of this fic, Fitzroy is on loan from the Secret Service cause Jimson wanted him out of the White House for a bit. But technically congress has their own protection. But also :p I do what I want.


	8. Through the Wind and the Chill and the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rainer and Fitzroy finally get their first bit of good news in their adventure. But it is when you are the most at ease that you can be taken by surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Sexual conversation, blood

Fitzroy got Rainer to the elevator silently, the world going quiet as the doors closed behind them as he hit the button for the garage. “What’s happening?” Rainer demanded of him as the elevator started moving.

“You don’t have to worry,” He said, “We’ve—“

“I WANT to know,” Rainer said, “What’s happening?”

Fitzroy sighed. He couldn’t see her face, but she could imagine it well enough. “I saw someone in the press pool,” he said, “It could be a suspect.”

Rainer settled into her chair, “Oh,” she said, “he was here? Tonight? But don’t they have to go through security and stuff?”

“We don’t know anything yet,” he said, “But he might not have had anything to ping security. It’s just a couple clues right now.” 

“But if it was him—How did he get here?” Rainer said, starting to hyperventilate, “What did he want from me? What was he—“

“Hey,” He kneeled beside her, “Hey. It’s ok. No one was going to get anywhere close to you. Except that Fontaine guy, but I handled him, right?”

She snorted, “That was freaking awesome, by the way,” she said, “I mean I wanted to scare him, but you...damn.” 

He chuckled. The elevator doors opened and he guided her through the parking lot. Despite what he told her, his eyes were darting around like crazy. It had started raining, the noise echoing around them. 

He saw the cars outside, a long line in the street. It was blocked up with traffic from the Presidential motorcade. It would be a nightmare getting out of here, but he felt safer with the both of them in a bulletproof blacked out car than out in the open. 

He reached the car and guided Rainer to the front seat, helping her into it. He started loading up her wheelchair as well, but froze as his phone rang. 

Rainer met his eyes as he answered. “What is it?” She asked, “What’s happening?”

“I’ll tell you in just a second, I have to hear what it is first,” he said. He listened intently, as Jimson spoke without introduction. “Okay,” he answered him, feeling Rainer breathing beside him. “Alright, I understand,” he said, “Thank you.”

He took a deep breath, as Rainer reached out and grabbed his arm. “So?” She asked, “Was it him? The guy?”

“Yeah,” Fitzroy said, “It was.” Rainer gulped. “It’s ok, they got him. He’s in custody. They found the emails on his phone, and the camera matched the photos. They’re getting a warrant now to search his house, but they have enough proof it's him, so they're making the arrest.”

“Oh god,” she said, “Oh my god, he was here. Here, tonight, he—“ She gulped, “So...so what now?”

“Now,” Fitzroy said, something warm rising in his chest, “It’s over.”

She blinked, “What do you—“

“It’s all over,” he said, “There’s no more threat, there’s no nothing left on your part. You’re all free.” He smiled, trying to lead her to his conclusion.

“I’m,” she stuttered, “So, it’s all...it’s over just like that? I can...have my life back?”

“Absolutely,” he said, “You can go to lunch meetings, go grocery shopping, just roll out of your apartment and take a walk, whatever you want.”

She laughed, relieved. It turned into a real laugh as she clutched her mouth, the realization sinking in. “Wait, but,” she stopped herself, “But, what does that mean for you?”

He shrugged, “I’m not your bodyguard anymore, I’ll probably get reassigned tomorrow. Maybe back to the White House, but I don’t know if the First Lady’s forgotten about the catfish yet.”

“You’re…” she said, “You’re leaving?”

He nodded, “But first,” He said, “I want to ask you something, uh, important, and uh,” He swallowed, trying the best words, he could find, “And that is, if you would go to dinner. With me, specifically. I mean, you can go to dinner whenever you want, that’s not up to me, but just. Um,” He finished lamely. He wanted to be suave, but all he could do was hope that his point got across.

She stared at him, and he watched as her brain caught up with his words. “You’re not my bodyguard anymore,” she told him, which he knew already, but nodded anyway, “We can...we can date?”

“We can date, we can kiss,” He said, “We can walk around for real just the two of us and do whatever we want. Whatever you want.”

Her breath came in heavy, a gasp and a laugh all in one. Her smile crept on her face and she said, “Kissing first please.”

He had never been happier to oblige. 

She was still sitting in the car, which put them at about the same height as he leaned in to quickly connect their lips. This one wasn’t hesitant like their last, but sure and quick, because there was nothing more he wanted to do in his life. 

He had started to pull away, just to breath, when she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into an awkward crouching position so he could keep them connected. 

He chuckled deep in his throat holding her back, as the feeling washed over them. This was real, this was happening. This amazing wonderful woman liked him, chose him, and they could actually be together. After everything that had happened in his life, everything that had gone wrong, of his doing or not, how did he ever get so lucky?

After many starts and stops, giggling, touches and kisses ranging from a quick peck to a creative use of tongue on Rainer’s part, Fitzroy finally split away long enough to ask, “Dinner?”

Rainer sighed, leaning her forehead against his and still not letting go. “To be honest, the last like, 10 minutes have been such a rollercoaster. I could really go for just a microwave dinner and a Queer Eye binge?”

He smiled and pressed his now sore lips to hers again for one last (for now) quick kiss, “Absolutely.”

The traffic around the area was unnavigable, and the new couple were way to full of energy to just wait around for the damn motorcade to pass. Instead they decided to walk through the rain that was quickly picking up, planning on calling an uber once they reached open streets. 

Fitzroy tried to cover her with his jacket, but it was a lost cause. They were both soaked in minutes, but they didn’t care, both giggling like teenagers. 

As they passed a convenience store, Rainer pulled him to the overhang, “I think I might be out of microwave meals,” she said, “So we should pick one up.”

“You’re out?” Fitzroy said.

Rainer shrugged, “I’m out of the good ones,” She opened the door, though Fitzroy quickly grabbed it for her, “Come on!” 

Fitzroy browsed some of the cheap meals available, when a bag of pancake mix caught his eye. “Ooh, I could teach you to make some crepes if you--” He turned, seeing that Rainer had rolled away from the food section into the corner and was looking at something else. 

He came over to investigate, finding she was looking at….condoms. “Rainer!” he squeaked, “What’re you--I mean, uh,” words were quickly lost on him along with most of his higher brain functions. 

Rainer looked up at him, holding the package, “I mean, we don’t need to use them tonight if you don’t want to,” she said, “But I don’t have any at my place, so thought it might be a good idea to have ‘em on hand,” She looked at the variety of possibilities the drugstore provided, “What would you say is the fruit closest to your size?”

“You--” He stuttered out, “Is this why you wanted to come in here?”

Rainer smiled, a little wicked humor on her face, “I mean. I do only have those turkey dinner lean cuisines left, and those are just nasty, never heat up properly. Crepes sound really good though, and I’m definitely up to try some home made.”

Fitzroy’s face couldn’t be redder if someone had painted it. “Good lord, Congresswoman,” he said, “What would your constituents say if they saw you?”

She smirked at him, something wicked in her eyes, “If they saw your abs?” she asked, “They’d say ‘lucky congresswoman.’”

Fitzroy couldn’t handle it anymore. There wasn’t anyone looking, but he still buried his face in his hands. 

Rainer chuckled at him, grabbing the hook of his elbow to pull him down to her level, “Like I said, we don’t need to use them tonight,” she said, “But I feel...I feel like I’ve been waiting a while for this, and I think you have too.” Fitzroy smiled, not able to deny it if he wanted to. “Besides, seeing you take down Fontaine like that was so damn hot, I am so freaking horny right now.”

Fitzroy squeaked, which Rainer covered with a kiss. “You’re incorrigible,” He whispered to her.

“Don’t you forget it,” she said, pulling him back in.

It quickly turned to a small makeout session in the back of the drugstore, which is not how Fitzroy would have expected the beginning of his relationship to happen. 

“Sir,” the cashier said, standing at the register. They were apparently not as hidden as they thought they were. “Sir, we’re closing, sir, you have to leave.”

Fitzroy looked up, embarrassed as the cashier stared directly at them. There was another man at the counter, browsing the cigarette display. 

Fitzroy sighed, grabbing his preferred condom brand and making his way to the counter. “We’ll just take that,” he said.

“Fitz, the crepes,” she said, handing him the mix.

“Oh, right,” he said, blushing at the nickname. “We’ll take these. And, uh, maybe one of those flowers for the lady, if you will.” It was just a little valentines day display, the roses probably wouldn’t even last the night, but it was the gesture that counted. Rainer chuckled, blushing a bit. 

“No,” the cashier said, “No, we’re closed. You have to leave.”

“Closed?” Rainer asked, looking between them confused “But it’s not even 9:00 and the sign says open until--”

Fitzroy cut her off with a hand as he took in the details. The man standing nearby was intentionally not looking at them, but had them in periphery. The cashier was sweating. And looking over the counter, Fitzroy could see the register was empty. 

He sobered instantly, going back into Agent mode. The man had his hand in his pocket, no doubt having told the cashier to get rid of the extra people as quickly as he could.

“Alright,” he said, gritting his teeth. He made a shuffling movement with his hand, getting Rainer to back away. He waited as she rolled behind a display, not much protection, but it’d have to do. The man was staring avidly at the cigarettes, no doubt trying to seem nonchalant, but he was getting tenser with each passing second.

He remembered before he met Rainer, he would have loved this opportunity, to save the day and be the hero. But he didn’t need to be a hero. He needed to be an agent.

Quick as a flash, he drew his gun and pointed it at the man. “Secret Service, on the ground.” The man gaped in surprised, going for his pocket, “Don’t reach, you won’t make it. No one has to get hurt here. Just lay face down on the ground.”

The man gulped. He couldn’t be more than early 20s, just an idiot kid really. Slowly he put his hands up and sank to the ground. “It’s ok,” Fitzroy said, kneeling over him, “Bad luck is all. You thought with the streets all blocked up, police couldn’t get here fast enough.” He took his bowtie off to tie his hands, “No way of predicting a secret service agent would walk in with his--”

BLAM

Fitzroy froze at the sound. He turned ever so slightly, seeing another man, no doubt this guy’s buddy, down the aisle. He’d been so absorbed with Rainer he’d missed it completely.

Then he looked down, unbuttoning his jacket. A bloom of red was spreading across his white dress shirt. 

He lost sense of movement, starting to fall. He looked into Rainer’s horrified eyes as he collapsed, feeling bad that he had scared her once again.

“FITZROY!!!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooooo i know that I kinda pulled somma that misdirection at you but that's how the West Wing episode went, and they KILLED the bodyguard, so like, blame Aaron Sorkin.


	9. Gonna take Superwoman to sweep me off my feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Fitzroy mortally wounded, it's up to Rainer to save the day.

—

“...fuck did you do? He’s a badge!”

“Shit shit shit! We gotta get out of here”

“What about the money?”

“Forget it! Run before….”

—

“…Roy? Fitzroy, baby, can you hear me?”

“I opened up some bandages, here, we need to keep pressure.”

“Where the fuck is that ambulance?”

“The street’s blocked, they can’t get through the…”

—

“...never work! Just stay here, it’ll only be a few minutes more.”

“He may not have a few more minutes! Help me.”

“...Rainer……”

“Fitz? Just hold on baby, I’m getting you to help. Now you, he just saved your pathetic business, are you really going to let the disabled woman carry a 200 pound man herrself or are you gonna…”

—

Something hit Fitzroy’s face. Not hard, but it stayed there. It took most of his energy to realize it was water.

He struggled to open his eyes, even just a slit to see out of. Why was he so tired? What had he been doing?

He saw lights, blurry shapes of lights. He had to blink again as more water hit his face. It was rain, he realized. He was in the rain.

The blurry shapes were moving, bouncing past him. No, he was bouncing, or shaking. He was moving past the lights.

There was something in his lap. He was sitting down, like on a chair. Like a chair that was moving. Like Rainers chair…

Rainer.

He fought, squirming to sit up. There had been danger, a gun. He had to find Rainer.

“Stay still,” a voice said, grabbing his shoulder. “You’re being held together with bandages and a lot of hope. Just hold still until we get to the ambulance.”

The voice was breathing heavily behind his ear. It was Rainer, no doubt. She was stressed, certainly, but she seemed ok. 

He took labored breaths. Oh, god, it was so hard to breath. He was in so much pain. 

The nights events were coming back to him, the gala, the drugstore, the...the kiss. Probably said something that the last one was the one he was having the most trouble believing.

His head lolled and he looked at his lap. There was something on his legs. He blinked a couple times and saw they were a pair of high heels. Rainer was wearing a pair like that—

Wait.

He tried to turn in the chair, but it was like his gut was being ripped. “Stay still!” Rainer urged, “this is hard enough as it is.”

He caught a flash of blonde hair behind him. Rainer was pushing him in the chair, through the pouring rain, barefoot down the Washington streets. “Wha-“ he tried to say, “what’re you….you shouldn’t be…”

“Just hold on,” she said, voice strained, “the drugstore guy ran ahead to get the paramedics. We should be meeting up with them suh—soon.” Her breathing was becoming more labored, and she was definitely in pain.

“Rainer,” He said, but he started coughing. Yup, that was definitely blood.

“Don’t speak,” she said, “just hold on. Just a little longer, just…

The lights went away as the world went dark.

—

“...2. 3, heave!”

Fitzroy was being moved, people grabbing his torso and legs and lugging him onto something flat. There were lights blinking above him. An ambulance…

“Is he alright?” Rainers voice cut through.

“He’s losing blood fast,” a strange voice said, closer, “we’ll take him to Farview Medical, you can meet us there.”

He was moving again. The rain stopped. He was in the ambulance.

“I’m going with him!”

“There’s no room inside for the chair.”

A door slam.

“Rainer…”

“Fitz! Fitzroy I’m coming!”

The second door slammed and the world went quiet.

—

“Tonight we have a unique story out of Washington. Congresswoman Rainer Michelle was already set to raise headlines when her companion to the Presidents gala attacked Congressman Rolandus Fontaine. However, that was nothing compared to her activities later in the evening.

“Our own Festo, who was reporting on the gala, ran into her, disheveled and covered in blood.”

“Hey! Hey Festo! Hey, that’s your news van, right? Give me a ride and I’ll give you the story of your life.”

“The congresswoman went on to describe a series of blackmail emails she had been sent, prompting congressional guards to assign her the man who her office had been reporting was her new boyfriend, Fitzroy Maplecourt.

“Congresswoman Michelle goes onto describe that despite starting professional, her cover story began to take on some truth.”

“He was so smug and arrogant and rude and...and strong and funny even when he didn’t mean to be, and fun to talk to and...and he would never break professionalism, but i knew I was in love with him.”

“The pair left the gala as there was a suspected threat from her blackmailer. However, once the threat was caught, the couple finally became reality...just before accidentally entering an armed robbery.”

“He wasn’t going to hurt anyone. He was trying to protect the cashier, and missed the second robber.”

“With the streets closed, Congresswoman Rainer took it on herself to get her new beau to safety, using her own wheelchair. Not allowed in the ambulance, she had Festo take her in a news van to bring her to the hospital. 

“Many in the media are claiming that this story has been heightened for publicity, or part of the congresswoman’s political agenda. For more we go to our political expert Tomas. Tomas?”

“Thanks, Dakota. Well, I would definitely say this has worked out well politically for the congresswoman. While most were expecting to pass Congressman Buckminster Eden’s union labor bill, which some claimed to be a the compromised version of Congresswoman Michelle’s, her own bill has flown through committee and is expected to pass through the house tomorrow with a simple majority. Whether sympathy for her will take the bill through the senate remains to be seen.

“As to it being a stunt, while Michelle is known for her stunts, this was different than all of them. The Rainer Michelle we saw in that news van said nothing of votes or bills or anything. She was just a woman concerned for her boyfriend, a rare moment of genuinity out of Washington, and I think we should leave it at that.”

“Thank you, Tomas. The congresswoman’s office has been all but silent on the issue, asking for her privacy in this trying time. She herself has not been seen since the incident in question, though she is expected to appear on the floor tomorrow to speak to her bill.

We expect based on her statement that she’s been spending as much time with Agent Fitzroy Maplecourt—“

“—Agent Fitzroy Maplecourt—“

“—Agent Fitzroy Maplecourt—“

“Oh would you turn that off?” Rainer said, rolling into the hospital room, jello precariously balanced in her lap. She reached the side table and took the remote.

Fitzroy, laid out on the hospital bed, whined as the screen went black. “I like hearing them say it.”

Rainer gave a huff, but her smile kinda cut the effect. “How’d you get a tv that rewinds in here anyway.”

“The nurse likes me,” Fitzroy mumbled, his voice slurred, “I convinced her I was an influencer.”

Rainer took his hand. She was so warm. “How 'with it' are you?”

“I’m always with it,” he said.

She snorted nearly dropping the jello. She set it on the side table. “Seriously, scale of 1-10.”

He wiggles his hand, “6?” He said, “how many days has it been?”

“9,” she said, squeezing his hand. “It would probably help you keep up if you didn’t keep watching that report over and over.”

“Mmm,” he groaned, lolling his head to the side, “I like hearing you talk about how great I am.”

“Don’t need a tv for that,” she said, kissing the back of his hand. “I, meanwhile, can just keep playing the recording I took when you woke up the first time.” She lolled her head, half-closing her eyes in an impression of him, “you’re so beautiful, you look like a fairy, be my elven princess,”

“Ok, ok, ok,” He grumped, glaring at her. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, quickly devolving into a competition she easily won. “Easy, easy,” He said, “Come on, Ive been shot.”

She gulped. For a moment, he was worried she had said the wrong thing, but she only reached and held both of his hands. “You’re not going to be able to use that excuse forever.”

“That’s why I have to milk it while I can,” he said.

She leaned forward, crossing her arms on his bed and rested her head there. “Well you sure as shit ain’t doing it again. If I have anything to say about.”

“Of course not,” he said, “I’m running out of nice suits. That was my best one!”

She poked him, annoyed. “You promised not to scare me again.”

Fitzroy’s smile was sadder. He ran a hand through her hair. It was knotted, clearly she hadn’t been caring for it properly in these 9 days. “I don’t remember saying that….”

She rolled her eyes. “It was implied.”

He chuckled, which he should not have done. It started a coughing fit that no doubt scared her more, based on how quickly she shoved water in his face. “I’m ok,” he choked out, drinking the water. She pressed the water on him further. 

When he’d had his fill, she was the one to put it on the side table. “I remember one thing though,” he said, grinning at her again, “You,” he poked her nose, “called me baby.”

“Yeah?” She said, screwing up her face. “We’re dating. What’s wrong with that?”

He smiled, shaking his head. “Nothing at all. Just trying to embarrass you more.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I said I love you on national television. You’re gonna have to try harder.”

“Yeah, Jimson as having kittens about that by the way,” Fitzroy said, “or that’s what he seemed to be doing, I wasn’t super coherent when he was visiting.”

She snorted, “ahhh, sorry,” she said, “if it makes you feel any better, Argo wasn’t too happy either.”

“Well, I don’t regret it,” he said. "And um,” he swallowed, his throat dry. “I, Uh. I love you too.”

Rainer blinked at him slowly. Then, she flushed a deep red. “Aha!” He said, louder than he should have, “I knew I could embarrass you.”

“Shut up!” She said, smacking him. It wasn’t exactly hard, though. “Eat your damn jello.”

He took the jello from her, “careful,” he said, “I’ve been shot.”

“Stop milking it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA: Do not move a gunshot victim like this, it was overdramatized for narrative storytelling. but yeah. 
> 
> Also, this was the last official chapter! because id put 11 but apparently miscounted! so now there will be an epilogue that i imagine will go up tomorrow morning.


	10. Epilogue: Til the Morning Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rainer brings Fitzroy home for his recovery.

“You ready?”

“Of course I’m ready, Rainer! This isn’t my first time.”

“First time with me. And I’m not going easy on you.”

“Oh, let me have it, baby!”

The elevator doors dinged saying they’d reached Rainer’s floor, and off they went, side by side in wheelchairs as they raced each other to Rainer’s door.

Rainer, as everyone expected, got an easy lead. “Need a hand?” She called back to him.

“I got this,” he said, struggling with the wheels, “I got this, I got this.”

Rainer rolled backwards by his side, always just a touch in front, “You’re going to far back on the wheel, you’re making it harder for yourself.

Fitzroy Scowled at her. “You’re just showing off.”

“No,” she said, before popping a wheelie, “now I’m showing off.”

Fitzroy stuck his tongue out at her as she reached her door. “Oh, calm down,” she urged him, “Come on, someone’s been looking forward to seeing you!”

The door swung open, and on the dining room table, tiny feet scuttled up to his glass container. “Snippers!” Fitzroy cheered, rolling into see him. He struggled, reaching into the terrarium to give him much deserved pets. “Thanks for taking care of him.”

“Of course!” She said, rolling beside him, “but be careful. Don’t strain yourself.”

“Are you enjoying telling me all the things people normally tell you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rainer tilted her head, thinking about it, “hmm. Yes.”

Fitzroy wheeled around to the couch and let Rainer help him into the seat. His physical therapy was going well, and the doctors said he’d be back on his feet soon. But it was nice having someone fret over him a bit.

“And this is from the office,” Rainer said, bringing him a gift basket, filled with fancy chocolates and a card, “Mimi took up most of the card with their well-wishes, so you get two cards.”

“Aww,” he said, looking at the variety inside, before he noticed, “it’s opened?”

Rainer swallowed, guilty. “It took longer than expected to get you discharged,” she said, “I was hungry.”

Fitzroy roller his eyes and opened his arms. She eagerly sat beside him, curling up to fit right in the crook of his arm. “So,” Fitzroy said, “you got forgiven for your news story.”

She sighed, nestling her head to find the optimal comfortable position. “Argo came around when it turned we were getting more deals with sympathy than antagonism.”

Fitzroy raised his eyebrows, amused, “More flies with honey,” he said, smiling.

“I suppose,” she said, “All that time getting my villain brand cultivated for not,” she said.

He smiled, massaging her arm, “Maybe it’s time to start a new brand,” he said, hand trailing up to cradle her face, “Rainer Michelle, the hero.”

She considered him, head tilted. “That doesn’t sound like as much fun.”

He chuckled, “You’re already my hero,” he said. 

Rainer blushed a deep red, burying her face in his shoulder, “You can’t just saw things like that!” Which got him to laugh. “Well, you’re my agent.” 

He shook his head. “I don’t know about. I certainly can’t go undercover anymore. And agents aren’t supposed to really gain media attention.”

She flinched, “I’m sorry.” 

“No,” he said, “Don’t be. I did what I always wanted. I saved the day.” He shook his head, “Now...maybe I’ll be a trainer like Crash. Or….” he sighed, “Or, I don’t know. Something.” His grip on her tightened. “I don’t...I never liked not knowing what to do.”

She brushed Fitzroy’s hair out of his eyes. “I don’t know either, but,” She tried to smile, “I’ll help if I can.”

He smiled back, “Well, then, that’s all I’ll need.”

He kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her again until his wound began to hurt and she apologized frantically, and he said it was fine, kissing her a last time before they settled in to finally watch Queer Eye, munching on chocolates. They held each other close, safe, and warm, and together.

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy? Check out my tumblr @dork-empress


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